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I 

Page  35.  j 


Hindoo  Child  in  its  Swing. 


DAWN  OF  LIGHT 


31  Stor]|  flf  tk  gjissimt. 


M A R Y 


BY  ^ 

/ 

E.  LESLIE. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 

PKESBYTEEIAN  BOAED  OF  PUBLICATION, 

ia34  CHESTNUT  STREET. 


CHARACTERS  INTRODUCED. 


f Babu  Rajkumar  Bhattacharjya,  a Brahmin  pun- 
•j  dit. 

LKumaei,  wife  of  the  pundit. 

' JoDUNATH,  brother  of  the  pundit. 

Prosonno,  wife  of  Jodunalh. 

Boshouto,  young  widow  of  a brotlier  of  the  pundit. 
Premchand,  ] 

Bovs,  the  sons  of  the  pundit. 

Prioratii,  J 

Kamini,  daughter  of  the  pundit. 

Taramoni,  aunt  of  the  pundit. 

Herani,  maid-servant. 

2 


CONTENTS. 

PAOR 

Introduction 5 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  Homestead 13 

CHAPTER  II. 

Boshonto’s  Hope 30 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  Break  of  Dawn 41 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Boshonto’s  Grief 51 

CHAPTER  V. 

Light  in  Darkness 59 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Prosonno’s  Trouble 69 


3 


4 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

PVGB 

A Chain  Fastened  in  Heaven SO 

CHAPTER  YIII. 

A Visit  to  Calcutta SO 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Doubts 106 

CHAPTER  X. 

Progress 120 

CHAPTER  XL 

The  Chain  Drawn  Closer 12S 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Riveting  of  the  Chain 145 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

A New  Life 155 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Husband  and  Wife 


170 


INTRODUCTION. 


Abridged  from  that  of  Rev.  Edvard  E.  Storrow 
TO  THE  LoNDOX  EDITION. 


The  writer  of  “The  Dawn  of  Light”  is  a volun- 
tary laborer  in  female  mission  work  in  Bengal. 
Dwelling  in  the  city  where  it  is  chiefly  carried  on, 
tlie  noble  impulses  of  feminine  love  and  pity  led  her, 
as  well  as  a few  others,  to  seek  access  to  a select 
number  of  respectable  Hindoo  families,  and  week  by 
week  to  labor  for  their  moral  and  intellectual  en- 
lightenment. IMiss  Leslie,  therefore,  has  had  unusual 
opportunities  for  becoming  acquainted  with  the  cha- 
racter, habits  and  wants  of  Hindoo  ladies,  and  in  the 
following  story  has  depicted  these  with  great  accu- 
racy. Boshonto,  Kumari,  Kamini,  Prosonno  and 
Premchaud  are  veritable  personages,  though  all  the 
incidents  associated  with  their  names  have  not 
occurred. 

The  story  is  not  only  valuable  as  a faithful  por- 
1 * 5 


6 


INTRODUCTION. 


traiture  of  Hindoo  sceneiy,  character  and  customs  as 
they  exist  in  Calcutta  and  vicinity;  it  is  yet  more 
valuable,  as  illustrative  of  the  methods  by  which 
light  and  truth  are  now  penetrating  into  the  daik 
and  sad  recesses  of  many  a zenana. 

Of  all  tlie  social  revolutions  occurring  in  various 
l)arts  of  the  world,  none,  probably,  is  more  im)iort- 
ant  than  that  now  pa.ssing  over  the  condition  of  the 
women  of  India.  Their  .state  for  centuries  has  been 
singularly  deplorable.  Their  very  birth  is  a disaj)- 
pointment.  Morally  and  intellectually  they  are  re- 
garded as  inferior  to  the  other  sex.  IMucation  is 
denied  them.  Married  while  j’et  children,  they  fall 
into  the  hands  of  those  who,  if  poor,  treat  them  as 
drudges  and  inferiors;  if  rich,  as  too  weak,  vain 
and  foolish  to  be  able  to  take  care  of  themselves, 
and  only  safe  from  harm  and  evil  as  long  as  they 
liave  no  free  intercourse  with  the  other  sex,  or  with 
the  great  world  outside  of  the  walls  of  them  own 
apartments.  Should  their  husbands  die,  they  as 
widows,  however  young,  must  subsist  on  poor  and 
scanty  diet  and  wear  the  plainest  and  coarse.st  attire 
to  the  end  of  lile. 

It  need  not  be  told  how  their  .state  was  deploied, 
especially  by  tho.'e  who  were  laboring  for  India’s  en- 
lightenment, but  no  remedy  was  at  hand.  Schools 
for  girls  were  unknown.  V’hen  fir.st  established. 


INTRODUCTION’. 


7 


only  the  very  poorest  and  those  of  lowest  caste  could 
be  bribed  to  send  their  daughters. 

The  very  few  who  were  sent  to  school  were  taken 
away  at  the  time  of  marriage,  before  any  permanent 
result  could  be  looked  for.  Nor  were  adults  more 
accessible.  If  they  ventured  to  draw  near  tlie  out- 
skirts of  a crowd  of  men  who  were  listening  to  a 
missionary,  they  might  be  told  contemptuously  that, 
being  only  women,  that  which  a])pealed  to  the  mind 
and  intellect  was  not  for  them ; whilst  respectable 
ladies,  shut  up  in  their  zenanas,  could  neither  be 
reached  by  the  living  voice  of  instruction  nor  read 
the  books  which  occasionally  penetrated  into  their 
dwellings.  One  half  the  population  of  all  India 
was  thus  practically  beyond  our  reach. 

Happily,  all  this  is  now  beginning  to  change,  and 
it  is  alike  important  and  instructive  to  trace  the 
causes  of  a movement  which,  though  limited  at  pres- 
ent to  a few  localities,  is  certain  finally  to  revolution- 
ize the  entire  structure  of  Hindoo  society. 

Around  Calcutta  the  greatest  indications  of  this 
change  are  observable ; a statement,  therefore,  of 
what  is  occurring  there  will  illustrate  what  is  going 
on  in  a less  degree  in  many  other  places. 

Being  the  seat  of  government,  and  the  centre  of 
commerce  between  North-eastern  India,  with  its 
eighty  millions  of  population,  and  the  civilized 


8 


INTRODUCTION. 


world,  it  has  drawn  to  itself  a lai-ger  minihcr  of 
Europeans  and  respectable  Hindoos  than  is  anywhere 
else  to  be  found.  From  the  southern  suburbs  of  the 
city  to  Chinsurah,  twenty-eight  miles  north  of  Cal 
cutta,  and  within  three  miles  of  each  side  of  the 
river,  there  are  at  least  a million  and  a half  of  ]ieo- 
ple.  In  addition  to  ten  thousand  who  are  being 
taught  in  government  and  government-aided  and 
mission  schools  in  their  own  language,  there  are  in 
superior  schools  and  colleges  more  than  fourteen 
thou-sand  who  are  acquiring  a knowledge  of  our  West- 
ern literatm-e,  science  and  opinions  through  the 
Engli.'^h  language.  The  latter  nearly  all  belong  to 
the  middle  and  upi^er  classes  of  society.  In  all  these 
schools  and  colleges,  both  directly  and  indirectly,  our 
ideas  of  morality,  of  the  relations  of  the  sexes,  of 
the  honor,  love  and  courtesy  due  to  womankind,  are 
inculcated,  and  in  mission  schools  and  colleges  where 
two-thirds  at  least  of  the  a'bove  numbers  attend,  the 
Bible  is  a recognized  cla.ss-book,  and  there  are  spe- 
cific lessons  on  all  the  abuses  and  wrongs  affecting 
native  female  society. 

Thu  effect  of  all  this  is  beginning  to  be  very’ 
marked.  The  contrast  between  their  manners  and 
customs  and  our  own  is  soon  observed.  The  more 
manife.st  evils  inherent  in  their  own  are  felt.  And 
now  there  has  grown  uj)  a fretting  imi)atience  at  the 


INTRODUCTION. 


9 


restraints  imposed  by  immemorial  custom,  and  a dis- 
like to  the  wrongs  and  inconveniences  from  which 
they  suffer.  Young  men  enlightened  by  an  Eng- 
lish education  cannot  but  observe  a marked  con- 
trast between  their  own  intellectual  freedom  and 
growth  and  the  utter  ignorance,  superstition  and 
narrowness  of  their  mothers,  sisters  and  wives. 
They  find  themselves  married  to  those  whom  they 
would  not  have  themselves  chosen,  and  with  whom 
they  can  have  no  sympathy.  They  see  their  little 
sisters  given  in  marriage  to  perfect  strangers  who 
may  be  four  or  six  times  as  old  as  their  child-wivc.s. 
They  see  widows  w’hose  husbands  died  in  childhood, 
who  are  an  encumbrance  to  their  fiimilies,  supposed 
to  be  cursed  by  gods  and  fate,  yet  whose  marriage 
would  be  judged  to  be  alike  impious  and  unnatural. 
They  see  all  this,  and  though  unusually  timid  and 
conservative,  they  cannot  shut  their  eyes  to  its  evils, 
and  are  slowly  j^reparing  to  eradicate  them.  Thus 
through  the  education  of  the  boys  and  young  men 
comes  the  most  effective  means  of  elevating  the 
women. 

Our  tale  exhibits  some  of  the  modes  in  which  this 
social  and  moral  revolution  is  operating.  I have 
known  many  instances  in  which  students  wishing 
to  parade  their  own  learning,  and  to  gratify  the  in- 
quisitiveness of  their  wives,  sisters  or  aunts,  have 


10 


INTRODUCTION. 


been  led,  like  Premcband  and  Prionatli  in  tliis  storj', 
to  teach  them  to  read.  Thi.s  was  dorie  secret^’,  for 
those  at  the  head  of  families  weie  of  tlie  old  way  of 
thinking,  and  the  innovators  were  fcv/  and  uninflu- 
ential.  The  education  of  the  better  classes,  liow- 
ever,  for  thirty  years  and  more,  has  been  mainly  of 
the  kind  we  have  described.  That  women  should  be 
educated  is  now  believed  by  thou.sands  of  native  gen- 
tlemen, and,  unlike  numbers  who  a few  years  ago 
held  this  merely  as  a theory,  they  are  giving  it  prac- 
tical effect.  Their  ideas  of  proi)riety  forbid  that 
ladies  should  leave  their  houses  frequently  or  with- 
out much  protection ; thej’  are  unwilling,  therefore, 
as  a rule,  to  send  them  to  school,  but  they  do  not 
object  to  the  visits  of  English  and  American  ladies, 
or  even  of  native  teachers  who  are  properly  accred- 
ited. There  is  less  inconvenience  attendant  on  this 
mode  of  instruction  than  might  be  supposed,  because 
the  sons  in  a family  when  married,  and  even  the 
grandsons,  continue  to  live  under  the  parental  roof, 
and  as  Hindoo  ladies  have  abundance  of  lei.sure,  it  is 
not  difficult  to  find  several  in  a familj'  who  are  will- 
ing to  li.sten  to  a teacher. 

This  is  the  general  work  in  which  many  ladies  are 
now  engaged.  Its  importance  can  hardly  he  over-esti- 
mated. We  are  thus  gaining  aece.ss  to  that  large  class 
whose  influence  for  good  or  ill  is  most  potent,  whose 


INTRODUCTION. 


11 


entliralment  and  luimiliation  have  been  most  com- 
!i  plete,  and  who  hitherto  have  been  inaccessible  as 
I the  summits  of  the  Himalayas. 

•Whilst  Hindoo  women  are  thus  receiving  the  bless- 
ings of  knowledge  and  freedom,  the  men  are  prepar- 
ing to  advance  yet  farther  in  the  same  direction. 
They  begin  to  feci  that  the  prescribed  age  of  mar- 
riage is  much  too  early ; there  is  a growing  willing- 
ness to  send  their  daughters  to  schools  ; on  the  ques- 
tion of  perpetual  wddowhood  they  have  advanced  yet 
farther,  and  in  spite  of  an  intensity  of  opposition 
which  it  is  difficult  for  foreigners  to  understand, 
have  brought  about  several  such  manaages. 

It  should  need  only  the  statement  of  the  simple 
facts  of  the  case  to  obtain  all  that  is  required  in  the 
form  of  aid  and  agency,  that  every  Hindoo  family 
accessible  to  us  may  have  its  visitor,  and  that  every 
girl  who  can  be  sent  to  school  may  be  within  reach 
of  one. 

Let  it  be  distinctly  remembered,  however,  that 
this  auspicious  work  is  confined  to  a very  small  part 
of  India.  The  hopeful  state  of  female  education  in 
Calcutta,  Bengal  and  the  Punjab  is  the  exception, 
not  the  rule. 

It  is  certain  that  not  one  Hindoo  woman  in  two 
hundred  can  read  or  write.  Then,  of  the  thirty  mil- 
lion young  people  who  might  be  at  school,  at  least 


12 


INTRODUCTION. 


6fteen  millions  are  girls,  and  of  this  vast  number 
there  is  reason  to  believe  that  not  one  hundred  thou- 
sand are  really  under  instniction,  or  one  in  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty.  Thu.s,  whilst  there  are  sixty  million 
adult  women  in  India  who,  with  the  rarest  exeep- 
tions,  are  wholly  uneducated,  there  are  nearly  thirty 
millions  of  their  daughters  who  are  growing  up  in 
the  deepest  ignorance. 

This  eannot  be  perpetuated.  We  who  exult  in 
our  freedom  and  intelligence,  who  boast  of  the  chiv- 
alrous, delicate  and  Christian  sentiments  we  enter- 
tain for  womankind,  are  bound  alike  by  duty,  honor 
and  beneficence  tb  seek  the  elevation  of  our  magnifi- 
cent Eastern  empire,  and  Christian  women  especially 
should  strive  that  their  Hindoo  sisters  may  share 
their  freedom,  cultivation,  happiness  and  piety. 


The  Dawn  of  Light. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  HOAIESTEAD. 

BOUT  ten  miles  beyond  one  of  the 


suburbs  of  Calcutta  is  a large  village, 
indeed  almost  a small  town,  inhabited  chiefly 
by  high-caste  families,  dwelling  in  substan- 
tial brick-built  houses.  There  many  Baboos, 
or  native  gentlemen,  have  their  country  resi- 
dences. Availing  themselves  of  one  of  the 
newly-opened  Hues  of  railway,  they  go  every 
Monday  morning  to  the  city,  and  return  to 
their  families  on  Saturday  afternoons.  It  is 
true  they  might,  by  using  the  same  means  of 
conveyance,  go  and  return  each  day,  but  most 
Bengali  gentlemen  have  their  city  as  well  as 
2 13 


14 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT, 


their  country  liouses,  and  they  prefer  being 
near  their  places  of  business  throughout  the 
week. 

The  railroad  passes  within  a mile  or  two 
of  the  village,  but  the  pleasantest  way  to  it 
is  by  carriage.  The  r«ad  is  very  beautiful. 
Now  you  pass  by  a tank  cov’ercd  with  the 
gorgeous  blossoms  of  the  crimson  lotus — a 
flower  so  regal  in  its  beauty  that  it  seems  to 
deserve  the  name  of  the  Queen  of  Flowers 
far  more  than  does  the  blushing  rose;  now 
you  see  a grove  of  mango  trees,  and  if  the 
time  of  the  year  be  the  cold  season,  each 
branch  is  tipj)ed  Avith  the  orange  blossoms 
and  crimson  leaves  of  a wild  orchid ; farther 
on  is  a long  range  of  bamboos,  looking  beau- 
tiful and  soft  in  the  ever-shifting  alternations 
of  cloud  and  sunshine ; then  you  come  to  a 
field  of  a kind  of  pnlse,  blue  with  innume- 
rable flowers  of  the  richest,  deepest  azure; 
a field  of  yelloAV  mustard  succeeds,  Avith  its 
golden  light  and  its  peculiar  yet  grateful 
fragrance.  In  the  rainy  season  every  bank 
and  bit  of  old  Avail  is  marvelously  adorned 
with  ferns  of  v'arious  kinds.  The  AJiantum 


THE  HOMESTEAD. 


15 


lunulatum,  with  its  pale -green,  crescent- 
shaped leaves,  and  its  black,  hair-like  stems, 
beautifies  every  road.  The  maiden-hair,  with 
its  delicate,  feather-like  fronds,  mantles  every 
half-hidden,  secluded  wall.  The  very  ditches 
on  either  side  the  road  are  beautiful,  for  in 
them  grow  arums  of  singular  loveliness.  Tiie 
leaves  of  some  of  these  arums  are  blotched 
with  purple;  some  are  veined  with  exquisite 
embroidery;  but  the  most  are  of  a rich  uniform 
green.  During  a shower  these  beautiful 
leaves  hollow  themselves  to  receive  the  rain- 
drops, and  then  the  succeeding  burst  of  sun- 
shine lights  them  up  with  extraordinary 
radiance. 

The  bazaar,  or  market,  is  situated  at  the 
entaince  of  the  village.  There,  in  the  little 
stalls,  may  be  seen  all  sorts  of  things  exposed 
for  sale.  Here  sits  an  old  man  with  his 
stock  of  tiny  looking-glasses,  balls  of  white 
and  colored  thread  put  up  in  bottles,  littk 
round  wooden  boxes  fantastically  painted, 
heaps  of  necklaces,  or  malas,  as  they  are 
called,  strings  of  beads  of  various  sizes  and 
numberless  bracelets  of  glass  or  lac.  A mis- 


16 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


cellaneous  collection  of  nails,  locks,  cow-bells, 
tin  boxes,  conch  shells,  etc.,  completes  his 
assortment  of  goods.  Farther  on  is  a pot- 
tery-shop, with  earthen  vessels  of  different 
sizes  and  shapes,  some  of  them  almost  rival- 
ing in  beauty  those  of  the  famous  Etruscan 
vases.  Yet  a little  farther  on  is  a sweetmeat 
shop.  Great  plates  full  of  parched  rice,  and 
of  butter,  sugar  and  spices  in  every  form  of 
delectable  preparation,  are  so  arranged  as  to 
tempt  the  eyes  of  the  passers-by.  Beside  it  is 
a fruit  shop,  with  bunches  of  golden  plan- 
tains hanging  up  within,  and  an  immense 
heap  of  green  cocoanuts  lying  in  front.  And 
perhajis  next  to  this  is  a stall  for  the  flower 
garlands  used  in  idol-worship.  Here  the 
Avorshiper,  on  his  way  to  the  river  or  the 
temple,  for  a few  cowries*  may  buy  wreaths 
of  white  jessamine,  crimson  hib'^cus  or  any 
other  of  the  beautiful  floAvers  of  India  which 
may  happen  to  be  in  bloom. 

LeaAuug  the  bazaar,  Ave  come  to  scattered 

* A small  shell,  about  eighty  of  which  are  exchanged 
for  a copper  pice,  itself  the  smallest  coin  in  common  use, 
of  less  value  tb*\n  a cent. 


THE  HOMESTEAD. 


17 


brick  houses,  each  one  embosomed  in  trees. 
If  the  day  be  cool,  we  can  get  out  and  walk 
along  the  road.  And  what  a walk  that  is ! 
By  one  coming  from  the  heart  of  the  busy 
city  the  stillness  is  immediately  felt  as  most 
delightful.  The  air  is  fresh  and  cool,  and 
“the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  the  land,” 
for  stealing  through  the  stillness  may  be  heard 
the  sweet  yet  mournful  coo  of  the  wild  dove. 
Sometimes,  too,  the  hoarse  croak  of  a raven 
may  be  heard,  and  occasionally  the  singular 
cry  of  a half-mythical  bird  which  no  one 
professes  to  have  ever  seen,  but  whose  nest, 
wonderful  in  size,  is  said  to  have  been  dis- 
covered. 

In  such  a quiet  and  beautiful  retreat  was 
the  homestead  of  Baboo  Rajkumar  Bhatta- 
charjya.  He  was  a Brahmin  and  a pundit, 
or  teacher.  Sanscrit,  the  sacred  lanc:uage  of 
the  Hindoos,  was  nearly  as  familiar  to  him 
as  Bengali.  Its  polysyllabic  words  had  a 
strange  charm  for  him,  and  nothing  delighted 
him  more  than  to  have  pupils  who  partook 
of  his  enthusiasm.  A refined,  polished  man, 
he  was  a perfect  gentleman ; conversation 
2 * 


18 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


with  him  was  a real  pleasure,  for  with  great 
intelligence  h<;  combined  the  most  finished 
courtesy.  He  taught  in  one  of  the  Calcutta 
colleges,  and  had  besides  some  private  pupils. 
On  this  account  he  stayed  in  Calcutta  from 
Monday  until  Saturday,  going  to  Gopalj>ore 
— for  so  we  shall  call  the  place — for  the  day 
of  rest.  Verily  the  Sabbath  is  a blessing, 
even  to  those  who  have  not  yet  received  into 
their  hearts  the  Lord  of  the  Sabbath  !* 

The  pundit’s  household  was  not  large. 
It  consisted  of  his  wife,  Kumari  ;f  his  two 
sons,  Premchand  and  Prionath ; his  daugh- 
ter, Kamini;  his  brother,  Jodunath,  and  his 
wife,  Prosonuo;  and  Boshonto,  a young 
woman  of  eighteen,  the  widow  of  a younger 
brother  who  had  died  a few  months  be- 

* Government  and  merchants’  offices  and  all  public 
schools  being  closed  on  the  Sabbath,  it  is  a day  of  rest 
to  thousands  who  do  not  acknowledge  its  sanctity.  It 
is  now  much  used  by  such  for  meetings  where  moral 
and  literary  questions  are  discussed,  and  for  worship  by 
those  who  have  discarded  idolatry  for  some  form  of 
Theism. 

t These  Bengali  names,  ending  in  t,  should  be  pro- 
nounced as  if  ending  in  ee,  as  Kaminee,  Kumaree,  etc. 


THE  HOMESTEAD. 


19 


fore.  An  old  aunt,  Taramoni,  and  a 
servant,  Herani,  completed  the  establish- 
ment. 

Kumari  was  a sweet-looking  woman,  very 
fair  and  very  gentle.  Her  age  might  have 
been  about  twenty-eight.  She  was  slightly 
tattooed  on  her  chin  and  nose,  but  these 
marks — the  former  resembling  a fleur-de-lifi, 
the  latter  a simple  black  line — seemed  only 
to  give  to  her  face  a more  intellectual  expres- 
sion than  it  would  otherwise  have  had.  Her 
three  children  Avere  her  pride.  Prernchand 
Avas  a queer  little  felloAv  of  about  tAvelve 
years  of  age.  He  had  been  carefully  in- 
structed, and  Avas  really  very  clever.  Like 
all  Bengali  boys,  his  Bengali  education  com- 
menced on  the  day  he  completed  his  fifth 
year.  On  that  day  his  mother,  according  to 
native  custom,  dressed  him  in  his  best  attii’e 
and  sent  him  to  the  village  pntsliala,  or 
school.  There  he  learned  the  alphabet,  the 
multiplication  table  and  the  AA^ay  to  form  the 
letters  on  strips  of  palm  leaA'es.  Naturally 
quick,  he  soon  learned  all  that  could  be 
taught  him  at  tin/  pafuliala.  Then  his  father 


20 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


took  him  into  the  city  with  him  every  INIon- 
day  morning,  w'here  he  attended  one  of  the 
large  missionary  institutions,  and  made  rapid 
progress  in  every  branch  of  education.  Eng- 
lish w’as  speedily  accpiired,  and  so  fond  was 
the  little  fellow  of  the  new  language  that 
Avhenever  he  met  any  one  who  could  speak 
English,  he  preferred  talking  in  it  to  Bengali. 
He  even  affected  to  despise  the  Bengali  lan- 
guage and  all  Bengali  books.  Such  w'as  the 
progress  he  had  made  in  understanding  Eng- 
lish that  he  could  rapidly  and  accurately 
translate  English  into  Bengali,  and  Bengali 
into  English.  He  was  the  darling  of  his 
mother  and  the  hope  of  his  father.  Every 
Saturday  his  favorite  dishes  and  sw^eetmeats 
W'ere  prepared  against  his  coming  home,  and 
the  Sunday  passed  in  listening  to  his  tales  of 
Calcutta  and  its  wmnders.  Well  was  it  for 
the  boy  that  he  had  not  his  mother’s  petting- 
all  the  week. 

The  second  son,  Prionath,  was  about  eight, 
a merry  laughing  boy  just  able  to  read  easy 
words.  During  the  rainy  season  paper  kites 
absorbed  his  heart;  at  other  times  his  tops, 


THE  HOMESTEAD. 


•21 


fishing-rods  and  pigeons  formed  the  delights 
of  his  play-hours.  Excepting  when  he  Avas 
asleep,  his  presence  at  home  alforded  little 
satisfaction.  Restless,  active,  domineering, 
he  plagued  his  mother  and  aunt,  teased 
Kamini  and  M'orriod  Boshonto.  In  his 
father’s  old  aunt,  however,  he  always  found 
an  unfailing  friend.  It  was  she  who  petted 
and  spoiled  him.  After  every  misdemeanor 
he  fled  to  her,  and,  big  as  he  was,  he  always 
nestled  in  her  arms,  while  the  old  woman 
sheltered  him  from  the  slaps  he  so  richly  de- 
served. 

Kamini,  the  youngest,  a child  of  four,  was 
a very  sweet  little  girl.  She  had  glorious 
eyes.  Very  pretty  did  she  look  M'ith  her 
black  hair  nicely  tied  up,  and  her  tiny  saree, 
or  dress,  properly  arranged — a veritable  lit- 
tle woman.  Her  prattle  was  charming,  and 
whenever  she  lisped  out  any  sentence  unusu- 
ally long,  or  tried  a new  and  difficult  word, 
her  mother’s  heart  leaped  for  joy.  “Just 
listen  to  Toki,”  she  would  say,  for  Toki  was 
the  name  of  endearment  by  which  the  child 
was  called.  Kumari  dearly  loved  her,  girl 


22 


THE  DAWN  OF  EIGHT. 


though  she  was^  and  even  the  pundit,  her 
father,  was  very  fond  of  her. 

Kuniari  had  these  three  children  • livinor, 
but  slie  had  lost  four  others  when  infants. 
This  is  the  case  with  most  Hindoo  women  ; 
indeed,  generally  speaking,  for  one  they  have 
living  two  are  among  the  dead.  And,  sad 
though  it  be  to  think  of  the  tears  of  the  sor- 
rowful mothers,  yet  we  cannot  but  rejoice  at 
the  knowledge  that  thousands  and  thousands 
of  little  ones  have  thus  passed  away  from 
these  dark  and  dreary  homes  into  the  full 
blaze  of  the  splendor  of  the  throne  of  God. 

Jodunath  and  his  wife,  Prosonno,  come 
next.  Jodunath  was  a younger  brother  of  the 
pundit.  He  was  a young  man  about  thirty, 
without  the  abilities  of  his  elder  brother, 
yet  like  him  quite  a gentleman.  He  had  a 
situation  in  one  of  the  Calcutta  offices,  and 
earned  eighty  rupees*  monthly.  Prosonno 
Avas  a young  woman  of  twenty.  She  w'as 
good-tempered  and  affectionate  in  disposi- 
tion, and  little  Ivamini  seemed  to  love  her 
quite  as  much  as  she  did  her  mother.  From 
* About  forty  dollars. 


THE  HOMESTEAD. 


23 


her  birth  the  little  creature  had  been  contin- 
ually with  Prosonno,  and  almost  the  very 
first  words  she  had  learned  were  “ Boro 
1 Bow”  (chief  wife),  the  name  by  which  Pro- 
sonno went  in  the  household.  There  was 
the  best  understauding  between  the  sisters- 
in-law.  Every  one  loved  Prosonno ; even 
that  little  rogue,  Priouath,  after  jilaguing 
her  to  the  utmost  degree,  would  go  and  throw 
his  arras  round  her,  and  be  forgiven  and 
caressed.  But  loved  as  she  was,  Prosonno 
had  one  cause  of  sorrow — a child  had  been 
denied  her.  Puja  (religious  rite)  after  puja 
had  been  performed,  a julgrimage  had  even 
been  undertaken,  but  still  the  longed-for 
i blessing  was  ^vithheld.  Poor  Prosonno  ! she 
feared  her  husband’s  love  on  this  account 
;|  was  passing  from  her. 

Ij  The  next  member  of  the  family  was  Bo- 
I shonto.  She  was  the  widow  of  a brother 
' younger  than  Jodunath.  She  was  only 
i eighteen,  but  a magnificent  woman.  Tall, 
large-limbed,  large-eyed,  fair,  slow  and  lan- 
j guid  in  her  mnvements,  there  was  something 
I majestic  and  f.iscinating  about  her.  Her 


24 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


husband  had  died  three  months  before,  and 
her  face  looked  very  sad  oftentimes.  But  on 
her  features  there  was  not  that  look  of  strong 
despair  so  often  visible  on  the  face  of  Hindoo 
widows,  for  a hope  glowed  within  her  heart. 
She  looked  forward  to  having  a baby  of  her 
own — a child  to  gladden  the  dreary  years  of 
her  widowhood.  She  wished  for  a boy,  and 
can  we  wonder  at  that?  What  good  would 
a daughter  be  to  her?  In  a few  years  she 
would  have  to  part  with  her,  sending  her  into 
a dark  and,  perhaps,  joyless  future.  But  a 
boy  would  be  her  own,  her  very  own,  as  long 
as  she  lived.  He  would  always  care  for  her, 
always  support  her,  always  live  with  her. 
His  young  wife  would  be  to  her  as  a daugh- 
ter, and  his  children  would  be  brought  up  by 
her  as  if  they  were  her  own.  Pleasant  were 
Boshonto’s  day-dreams,  and  many  were  the 
prayers  she  offered  to  the  gods  entreating  the 
blessing  of  a son. 

The  aunt,  Taramoni,  belonged  to  the  old 
school.  She  was  a genial  old  lady,  tall,  dark, 
with  bright  eyes  and  gray  hair.  She  always 
had  a pleasant  word  for  every  one,  the  whole 


THE  HOMESTEAD. 


25 


family  venerated  her  and  her  influence  on 
all  was  good.  The  children  w^ere  much  loved 
by  her ; indeed,  she  indulged  them  too  much. 
She  was  considered  a very  holy  woman,  and 
had  been  on  pilgrimage  to  Juggernath,  to 
Gya,  to  Benares  and  other  shrines.  She  ate 
only  once  a day,  and  much  of  her  time  was 
spent  in  devotions.  But  the  house  was  all 
the  brighter  for  her  presence,  and  the  whole 
village  too.  An  old  widow,  she  had  the 
})fivilege  of  going  about  among  the  neigh- 
bors, and  whenever  any  sickness  occurred, 
the  })undit’s  aunt  was  sent  for,  and  by  her 
knowledge  of  native  medicines,  many  of 
which  are  really  excellent,  she  was  often  able 
to  give  relief.  In  quarrels,  too,  she  was  often 
called  in  to  arbitrate,  and  her  decisions,  sen- 
sible always,  "were  generally  accepted. 

The  servant  was  a distant  relation  of  the 
family,  a Brahmani  and  a widow.  She 
cooked  for  them,  brought  their  water,  went 
to  the  bazaar  and  made  their  purchases,  and 
did  whatever  else  was  wanted  m and  about 
the  house.  She  was  kindly  treated,  and  pro- 
vi<led  with  all  she  required  iu  the  way  of 


26 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


food  and  clotliing,  in  return  for  her  services, 
and  not  unfrequently  would  tlie  pundit  tell 
his  wife  to  give  poor  ITerani  a four-anna  bit, 
tliat  she  might  have  a few  pice*  to  spend  on 
any  tiling  she  liked. 

Such  were  the  members  of  the  family  of 
Rajkumar  Bhattacharjya.  Now  for  the  house 
itself.  It  was  a large,  ujiper-roomed,  brick- 
built  house,  in  the  shape  of  a double  quad- 
rangle. Entering  by  a doorway  from  the 
south,  you  might  see  on  the  right  hand  the 
household  temple,  a large  room  with  a niche 
in  the  wall,  and  an  ugly  idol  in  the  niche. 
The  other  three  sides  had  a verandah  run- 
ning all  round,  and  small  rooms  opening 
into  the  verandah.  Opposite  the  doorway, 
on  the  upper  story,  were  latticed  windows, 
through  which  the  women  might  look  down 
into  the  courtyard  at  any  festivities  which 
might  be  going  on.  On  the  left  side  a flight 
of  steps  led  up  to  the  reception-room,  which 
extended  along  the  whole  of  one  side  of  the 

* The  anna  is  a sixteenth  part  of  a rupee;  the  pice, 
a twelflli  part  of  an  anna.  Tlie  four-anna  piece  is  worth 
aliout  twelve  ceiit.s. 


THE  HOMESTEAD. 


27 


house.  A dark  passage  beyond  the  steps  led 
into  the  second  court,  and  gave  access  to  the 
women’s  domains.  Here  there  were  upper 
rooms  on  only  two  sides  of  the  square  j the 
other  two  alforded  terraces  for  walking  iqion 
in  the  evenings.  Down  below  were  the  kit- 
chen, the  cow-house  and  two  or  three  rooms 
which  were  used  chiefly  for  stores.  Herani 
had  one  where  she  kept  her  few  possessions. 
A back  door  gave  access  to  an  enclosed  tank 
surrounded  by  a few  flowering  jflants.  The 
whole  house  was  exceedingly  comfortable, 
according  to  native  ideas  of  comfort. 

When  the  pundit  and  his  brother  were  at 
home,  much  of  their  time  Avas  spent  in  the 
reception-room,  sleeping  or  talking  with  their 
neighbors.  This  room  was  fitted  up  with 
mattresses  and  cushions  upon  which  to  re- 
cline. A few  old  worthless  pictures,  picked 
up  in  the  curiosity-shops  which  abound  in 
Calcutta,  ornamented  the  walls,  and  a chan- 
delier, which  had  seen  its  best  days  and  Avas 
lighted  up  on  grand  occasions,  hung  from  the 
roof.  The  Avomen  very  rarely  penetrated  into 
this  outer  court.  Old  Taramoni  sometimes 


28 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT, 


came  and  talked  Avith  her  nejihews,  but  gene- 
rally even  she  kejit  within  the  inner  court. 

The  mornings  Avere  spent  by  the  Avomen 
in  bathing,  attending  to  their  household  af- 
fairs, helj)ing  Herani  in  cooking  and  eating 
their  mid-day  meal.  About  one  or  two 
o’clock  all  the  business  was  over  for  a AA^hile ; 
then  they  slept  or  looked  over  their  jeAvels, 
and  the  younger  women  oiled  and  tied  up 
their  long  dark  tresses  — Avealth  Avhich  an 
EnglisliAvoman  might  envy — with  number- 
less strings  calle<l  dori,  twisted  by  them  out 
of  their  OA\m  fallen  locks.  About  six  o’clock 
the  preparations  for  the  CA'ening  meal  com- 
menced ; by  eight  or  nine  o’clock  it  AA’as 
cooked  and  eaten.  And  then  on  clear,  bright 
nights  the  Avomen  Avould  sit  on  the  terrace, 
and  sometimes  some  of  the  neighbors  from 
the  Aullage  close  by  Avould  come  in,  and  gos- 
sip, the  delight  of  Hindoo  women,  Avould  be 
retailed  in  abundance,  diversified  noAV  and 
fhen  by  a fairy  tale.  As  sleep  OA'ercame 
them,  one  after  another  would  retire  into  the 
A’erandah,  lie  doAvn  as  they  Avere  dressed,  and 
go  to  sleep.  On  cold  nights  the  inner  rooms 


THE  HOMESTEAD. 


29 


were  chosen  in  preference  to  the  verandah. 
These  inner  rooms  were  fitted  up  with  tohta- 
2JOses,  or  wooden  bedsteads. 

INIonotonoiis  is  the  life  of  a bird  in  its  cage, 
yet  it  is  scarcely  more  monotonons  than  the  life 
of  a Hindoo  woman  of  high  caste  in  her  hus- 
band’s house.  While  she  is  a child  in  the  home 
of  her  father,  she  may  visit  the  neighbors,  and 
ev’en  go  into  the  village  close  by,  but  in  her 
husband’s  house  she  is  kept  a ])erfeet  prisoner. 
Her  days  glide  on  in  a ceaseless  round  of 
domestic  duties,  varied  only  by  an  occasional 
quarrel  or  the  low  gossip  of  the  old  women 
of  the  neighborhood.  Xo  existence,  save  that 
of  a captive  doomed  to  perpetual  imprison- 
ment, can  be  more  dull,  colorless  and  unin- 
tellectual. 


CHAPTER  II. 


BOSIIONTO’S  HOPE. 

/^XE  Saturday  evening,  as  the  pundit  and 
liis  brother  came  home,  Prionath  was  at 
the  station  ready  to  greet  them.  He  brought 
good  news,  and  boy-like  was  in  great  haste 
to  tell  it.  As  soon  as  he  saw  them  step 
down  from  the  carriage  he  shouted  out : 

“ The  Choto  Bow  (younger  wife)  gave  birth 
to  a boy  yesterday  morning.” 

“ That  is  well,”  said  the  pundit.  “ Happy 
is  my  poor  dead  brother,  since  a son  has  been 
born  to  keep  up  his  memory.  But  what  sort 
of  a boy  is  it,  Prionath  ?” 

“Oh,  a fine-looking  boy,  father,  with  very 
black  hair,  bright  eyes  and  a fair  face.” 

Xo  mention  was  made  of  the  mother ; she 
was  but  a secondary  consideration. 

The  two  brothers  walked  to  their  home, 

30 


BOSHONTO’S  HOPE. 


31 


accompanied  by  the  thoughtful  Prerachand 
and  the  merry  Prionath.  Premchand  conde- 
scended to  let  down  some  of  his  dignity  and 
really  ran  a race  with  his  younger  brother.  It 
was  a beautiful  evening  in  February,  the  In- 
dian spring-time — certainly  the  loveliest  pe- 
riod of  the  Indian  year.  The  air  was  fresh 
and  balmy,  the  sky  of  a pale  blue,  with  light 
transparent  clouds  like  silver  webs  stretching 
over  it  here  and  there.  The  mango  trees 
were  laden  with  blossoms,  filling  the  air  with 
fragrance.  Every  ti’ee  was  budding,  and  the 
flush  of  tender  gi*een  over  all  was  exquisite. 
The  spirit-like  voice  of  the  kokil,  the  Indian 
cuckoo,  might  be  heard  at  intervals.  Indeed, 
it  was  the  perfection  of  beauty.  No  wonder 
that  one  of  the  sweetest  and  most  common 
Bengali  names  for  women,  Boshonto,  is  also 
the  name  given  to  this  lovely  season  of  the 
year. 

When  they  had  entered  the  inner  court  of 
the  homestead,  Kumari  came  forward  and 
met  her  husband  with  the  words : 

“ Bias  Prionath  told  you  the  good  news  ?” 

“ Yes,”  he  said ; “ let  us  see  the  child.” 


32 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


She  took  them  to  a little  shed,  erected  in 
the  courtyard — a lean-to  it  might  be  called — 
put  aside  the  mat  door  and  pointed  within. 
There,  in  a place  hardly  fit  for  a goat,  on  the 
mud  floor,  was  poor  Boshonto,  looking  pale 
and  exhausted  indeed,  but  very  content,  with 
the  babe  on  her  lap.  Beside  her  was  a large  ! 
wood  fire,  for  such  is  the  custom  with  the 
natives  of  India.  The  pundit  and  his  broth- 
er spoke  kindly  to  the  poor  girl,  and  each 
dropped  a gold  mohur  into  the  hand  of  the 
unconscious  child.  Then  the  mat  door  was 
lifted  back  to  its  place,  and  Boshonto  was 
left  alone  with  the  great  wood  fire  and  her 
baby. 

For  a week  she  stayed  night  and  day 
in  her  dark  hole,  getting  only  occasional 
glimpses  into  tlie  outer  world  when  the  nurse 
came  to  attend  to  her  wants.  After  eight 
days  she  was  allowed  to  leave  the  shed  and 
take  her  child  and  lay  it  in  the  verandali  in 
the  sun.  Its  cradle  was  a large  soorp,  or 
winnowing  fan.  After  being  rubbed  over 
with  mustard  oil,  the  little  one  was  put  out 
in  the  sun  every  day  in  this  cradle.  Bo- 


BOSHONTO’S  HOPE. 


33 


shonto  herself  could  not  enter  any  room  nor 
do  any  household  work.  No  one  might 
touch  her,  nor  might  she  toucli  any  one. 
The  child  might  be  handled  and  caressed 
by  the  members  of  the  household,  but  con- 
taet  with  the  mother  had  a defiling  effect. 
Little  Kamini  ran  up  to  caress  her  the  day 
she  first  came  out  of  her  shed,  but  the  child 
Avas  hastily  drawn  a^vay  and  made  to  bathe 
that  the  pollution  might  be  removed.  She 
was  ceremonially  unclean,  and  could  not  be 
cleansed  until  the  expiration  of  twenty-one 
days.  Strange  it  is  to  see  among  these  peo- 
ple many  of  the  old  ceremonial  laws  of  the 
Jews.  All  these  twenty-one  days  Boshonto 
sat  in  the  sun  beside  her  baby,  keeping  away 
the  flies  and  moscpiitoes,  and  at  night  she 
retreated  with  her  child  into  the  shed.  A^et 
she  was  very  happy.  She  had  a baby-boy, 
her  own,  all  her  own.  No  one  could  claim 
him  from  her. 

On  the  twenty-first  day  after  the  child’s 
birth  there  was  a domestic  festival.  Bo- 
shonto was  then  jjurified.  The  process  of 
purification  was  singular.  Her  nails  w'ere  cut, 


34 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


her  hair  tied  up,  she  put  into  a jialanquin, 
the  bedding  having  been  taken  out,  and  car- 
ried to  the  Ganges,  a distance  of  six  miles. 
The  bearers  waded  into  tlie  stream  with  tlieir 
burden  as  far  as  tliey  could  go,  and  the  sacred 
water  gushed  in,  around  and  upon  her,  shut 
up  in  her  dark  box.  She  was  then  carried 
back  all  those  six  miles  in  her  wet  clothes,  and 
such  was  the  efficacy  of  the  bath  that  from 
that  time  she  was  reckoned  ceremonially 
clean.  The  neighbors  were  feasted  with 
sweetmeats  of  different  kinds.  Puja  Avas 
performed  to  the  goddess  Shoshti,  the  pundit 
himself  officiating.  And  now  Boshonto  was 
free  of  the  house,  and  could  go  Avhere  she 
liked.  Prosouno  was  peculiarly  pleased,  for 
Avith  her  caressing  nature  it  had  been  a hard 
thing  for  her  to  refrain  from  all  demonstra- 
tions of  affection.  Boshonto,  too,  Avas  glad, 
for  now  she  could  take  her  share  of  house- 
hold Avork. 

Week  after  week  passed  by,  and  the  boy 
grew  splendidly.  Native  children,  freed 
from  the  restraints  of  clothing,  seem  to  groAV 
and  get  the  use  of  their  limbs  much  more 


BOSIIONTO’S  HOPE. 


35 


rapidly  than  English  children.  A primitive 
sort  of  swing  was  put  up  for  him  in  the 
verandah  of  the  inner  court,  made  of  coarse 
network,  fastened  by  two  ropes  to  the  roof. 
A mat  was  laid  on  the  network,  and  a bunch 
of  colored  balls  hung  above  from  the  two 
roi)cs.  In  this  mat  the  child  was  placed 
ami  daily  swung  to  sleep.  He  was  soon  able 
to  kick  about  and  crow  and  laugh.  He 
learned  to  know  his  mother  surprisingly 
soon,  and  would  follow  her  about  everywhere 
with  his  beautiful  black  eyes.  Oh  how  poor 
Boshouto  loved  her  boy ! Her  whole  soul 
seemed  absorbed  in  him.  She  was  jealous 
of  her  child.  Kumari  and  Prosonno  could 
not  take  him  without  her  watching  them 
most  eagerly.  Prionath  was  the  terror  of 
her  life.  He  would  often  rush  in,  catch  up 
the  baby  and  run  away  with  him,  just  to 
annoy  the  mother.  At  such  times  Boshonto 
used  to  get  very  angry,  and  then  the  boy 
always  took  refuge  with  Taramoni.  His 
mother  would  scold  him,  but  Taramoni 
would  invariably  fold  him  in  her  arms,  and 
then  no  one  dared  to  say  a word. 


06 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


Every  one  loved  the  poor  little  fatherless 
boy.  The  pundit,  when  he  came  home  on 
Saturday  evenings,  used  to  carry  him  out 
into  the  village  when  he  went  to  have  a lit- 
tle gossip  with  the  neighbors.  He  had  loved 
his  brother,  and  in  this  child  he  saw  his 
brother  alive  again.  He  told  Boshonto  he 
would  regard  the  child  as  his  own  son,  and 
that  in  every  resjject  he  should  be  on  a level 
with  Premchand  and  Prionath.  Rarely  in- 
deed did  Saturday  afternoon  come  round 
without  his  bringing  some  toy  for  the  little 
one — a bright  red  ball,  a brill iantly-green  par- 
rot, a fantastically-colored  mud  horse,  a rag 
doll,  or  anything  else  he  chanced  to  meet  on 
his  way  home. 

Six  months  passed,  and  the  day  for  nam- 
ing the  baby  came.  It  was  quite  a holiday. 
A Brahmin  astrologer  was  sent  for.  The 
pundit  informed  him  of  the  day,  the  hour 
and  the  moment  of  birth.  The  astrologer 
then  cast  the  child’s  horoscope.  The  paper 
was  handed  to  the  pundit,  the  child’s  natural 
guardian,  and  the  Brahmin  received  his  fee, 
five  rupees.  Boshonto  was  naturally  curious 


BOSHONTO’S  HOPE. 


37 


to  know  the  destiny  of  her  child.  She  had 
heard  a strange  story  of  a god  who  always, 
on  the  sixth  night  after  birth,  apiwoaches  the 
unconscious  child  and  writes  its  future  on  the 
babe’s  forehead.  In  confirmation  of  this  story, 
a legend  was  told  of  a certain  king  who  went 
out  hunting.  Somehow  he  became  separated 
from  his  attendants,  and  night  coming  on,  he 
took  refuge  in  the  house  of  a poor  laborer. 
He  was  sheltered  and  provided  with  such  ac- 
commodation as  they  had.  The  laborer  had 
had  a son  born  six  days  before.  That  night 
the  king,  perhaps  owing  to  the  poor  bed  or 
to  the  mosquitoes,  could  not  sleep.  Lying 
awake,  therefore,  he  saw,  about  midnight, 
the  god  enter  and  write  something  on  the 
child’s  forehead.  The  writing  was  to  this 
effect,  that  at  the  end  of  twelve  years  the  boy 
would  be  killed  by  a lion.  The  next  morn- 
ins  the  king  told  this  to  the  father  and  went 
his  Avay.  The  child  grew  up  a fine,  steady, 
spirited  boy.  When  the  twelve  years  were 
nearly  completed,  the  king  remembered  his 
adventure,  and,  anxious  to  outwit  the  angel 
of  destiny,  sent  a guard  to  bring  the  child  to 
4 


38 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


the  palace,  charging  them  to  take  every  care 
of  the  boy  during  the  journey.  A palanquin 
was  sent  for  him.  In  it  one  of  the  attendants 
happened  to  put  a shield,  the  boss  of  which 
was  a lion’s  head.  The  boy  knew  of  the 
writing  which  the  king  had  read  upon  his 
forehead,  and,  spirited  lad  as  he  was,  as  soon 
as  he  was  shut  up  in  the  palanquin  and  spied 
the  lion’s  head,  he  doubled  his  little  fist  and 
said,  “Ah,  is  it  you  who  threatened  to  kill 
me?  I’ll  strike  you.”  He  struck  the  lion’s 
face ; the  spike  which  finished  off  the  boss 
entered  his  hand,  and  there  in  the  palanquin 
he  bled  to  death,  so  that  when  they  reached 
the  palace  and  opened  the  doors  they  found  a 
dead  child.  The  destiny  had  been  fulfilled. 

Often  had  Boshonto  pondered  this  story, 
and  stroking  her  child’s  forehead,  had  won- 
dered what  destiny  was  written  there  in  in- 
visible characters.  She  hoped  the  horoscope 
would  throw  some  light  on  her  boy’s  future 
life.  Great  was  her  joy,  therefore,  when  the 
pundit  told  her  that  from  the  conjunction  of 
planetary'  influences  at  the  time  of  his  birth 
the  astrologer  predicted  a life  of  happiness 


BOSHONTO’S  HOPE. 


39 


and  prosperity.  Relieved  in  mind,  her  heart 
])artook  of  the  gladness  of  the  day.  Again 
were  the  neighbors  invited ; again  were  great 
])lates  of  sweetmeats  made  and  bought.  The 
little  one  was  arrayed  in  gossamer  clothes  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life.  A chain  of  silver 
circiled  his  waist  and  tinkling  anklets  were 
put  on  his  little  feet;  a necklet  of  charms 
enclosed  in  cases  of  gold  and  a pierced  gold 
coin  were  placed  round  his  neck  ; on  his  head 
was  a curious  cap,  resembling  a fool’s  cap 
with  us.  The  pundit  performed  puja,  and 
then  the  child  was  fed  with  a little  boiled 
atub  rice — rice  grown  on  an  island  near  Sau- 
gor,  and  considered  sacred.  All  the  relatives 
and  friends  assembled,  and  each  one  present- 
ed the  boy  with  a piece  of  money  or  some 
toy ; so  they  feasted.  On  this  day  the  child 
received  his  name,  Hurish  Chondro. 

That  night  Boshonto,  lulling  her  boy  to 
sleep,  had  a bitter  cry.  She  thought  of  his 
father  and  of  the  pride  he  would  have  felt  in 
his  child  on  that  day,  and  in  the  beautiful 
poetical  language  of  the  people  she  chanted 
between  her  bursts  of  tears : 


40 


THE  DAWN  or  LIGHT. 


“ O my  beloved,  sun  of  my  soul,  star  of 
my  heart,  lord  of  my  affections,  why  didst 
thou  go  away?  Did  I not  make  thee  happy? 
Did  I not  love  thee  ? Was  I not  always  near 
thee  to  comfort  thee  when  thou  wast  weary  ? 
Why,  then,  didst  thou  not  stay  to  name  thy 
little  boy  ? His  eyes,  his  mouth,  his  nose, 
his  forehead,  all  resemble  thine.  But,  alas  for 
him  ! he  will  never  see  his  father’s  face  !” 
While  she  \vas  crying,  Prosouno  came  up 
and  caressed  her,  but  this  made  the  poor 
girl’s  grief  only  the  more  violent.  At  length 
it  sobbed  itself  to  silence,  and  Boshonto  fell 
asleep,  holding  her  baby-boy  tightly  clasped 
in  her  arms. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  BREAK  OF  DAWK. 

\E  Sunday  afternoon  Premchand  was 


more  than  usually  absorbed  in  his  book.s. 
The  weather  was  cool,  so  the  boy,  instead  of 
sitting  in  the  reception-room,  had  stretched 
himself  full  length  on  a mat  spread  on  the 
terrace  in  the  open  sunlight.  Boshonto  was 
there,  too,  with  her  boy.  The  child  had 
fallen  asleep.  She  had  employed  herself 
during  his  slumber  in  combing,  oiling  and 
arranging  her  long  black  hair.  This  work 
being  over,  and  not  feeling  sleepy,  she  had 
nothing  to  do,  so  she  crept  close  to  Prem- 
chand and  asked  him  what  he  was  reading. 

‘‘  The  story  of  Sacontola,”  brusquely  re- 
plied the  boy. 

“ Read  me  a little,  Premchand,”  she  said, 
coaxingly. 


4 » 


41 


42 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


Had  it  been  Prosonno,  the  boy  would 
doubtless  have  complied  at  once  and  read 
her  the  whole  story,  but  Boshonto’s  sorrow 
had  made  her  proud,  shy  and  reserved  ; she 
did  not  easily  win  love.  Since  her  baby’s 
birth,  however,  she  had  been  more  gentle  and 
loving  to  the  family,  yet  there  was  something 
about  her  which  separated  her  from  the  rest. 
It  was  this  that  made  Premchand  pay  no  at- 
tention to  her  request.  He  went  on  quietly 
with  his  reading.  Again  she  asked  him,  and 
this  time  backed  her  request  with  the  promise 
of  some  sweetmeats.  Premchand  was  not  in- 
sensible to  a bribe  of  this  kind,  so  he  began 
and  read  her  the  first  two  chapters.  Very 
eagerly  did  she  listen  while  he  read  about  the 
Pajah  Dushmanto  and  his  hunting  expedi- 
tion— about  the  little  fawn  and  its  rescue — 
the  beautiful  hermitage  with  its  lovely  flowers 
and  its  fearless  deer — ^the  thrc'C  young  girls 
Sacontola,  Anosuya  and  Priomboda,  and  their 
merry  talk  while  watering  their  flowers — 
about  the  rajah’s  meeting  with  Sacontola, 
their  mutual  attraction  and  the  gift  of  the 
ring,  the  inscription  on  which  was  imme- 


THE  BREAK  OF  DAWN. 


43 


diately  read  by  i\_nosuya  and  Priomboda — 
the  amusing  conversation  between  the  rajah 
and  his  friend  Madhoba — and  finally,  the 
sending  off  of  INIadhoba  to  manage  the  affairs 
of  the  kingdom,  while  the  rajah  stayed  be- 
hind to  try  and  win  the  peerless  Sacontola  as 
his  wife. 

Here  Premchand  stopped,  being  tired,  and 
threw  the  book  down.  Bosh  on  to  took  it  up 
and  looked  longingly  at  the  mysterious  signs. 
But  the  key  was  not  hers ; she  could  not  un- 
lock the  gates  of  the  hermitage  and  revel 
amidst  its  brightness  and  beauty,  nor  could 
[ she  hear  for  herself  the  bird-like  chatter  of 
the  three  friends.  A thought  suddenly  struck 
her : Oh,  if  I could  but  read  !”  But  how 

was  it  to  be  managed  ? Premchand  was  out 
of  the  question.  Little  prig  as  he  was,  he 
despised  the  “ female  mind,”  as  he  was  wont 
to  term  it,  and  would  have  laughed  at  poor 
Boshouto  if  she  had  ventured  to  make  known 
to  him  her  wish.  At  present  she  could  bear 
no  ridicule.  She  then  thought  of  bribing 
Prionath  during  the  week  to  get  her  a spell- 
ing-book and  give  her  a few  lessons.  After 


44 


THE  DAWN  OP  LIGHT. 


she  had  resolved  on  this,  she  got  Pi'emchand 
his  sweetmeats.  He  was  satisfied  with  the 
payment  for  his  trouble,  and  as  the  sun  was 
now  not  very  far  from  setting,  he  put  up  his 
books  and  sauntered  away  to  join  the  neigh- 
bors in  tlieir  evening  gossip. 

The  next  day,  when  Prionath  returned 
from  the  morning  school,  Boshonto  called 
him  aside  and  put  some  sweetmeats  she  had 
cooked  for  him  into  his  hand ; they  were  de- 
liciously flavored  and  quite  hot.  The  boy 
was  surprised  at  her  kindness,  but  made  no 
remark,  and  ate  the  titbits  with  great  relish. 
Then  she  began  questioning  him  about  his 
lessons,  and  asked  him  to  show  her  his  books. 
Step  by  step  slie  went  on  coaxing,  and  ended 
at  length  by  giving  him  some  pice  for  a spell- 
ing-book, adding  two  for  himself  that  he 
might  buy  a beautiful  red  jiainted  top.  The 
boy  thought,  “ It  will  be  long  before  Hurish 
wants  a sjielling-book  ; however,  it  is  no  busi- 
ness of  mine.”  That  afternoon  he  went  to 
the  schoolmaster,  and  presenting  the  pice, 
asked  for  a copy.  “ What  has  become  of 
yours?”  asked  the  schoolmaster.  The  child. 


THE  BREAK  OF  DAWN. 


45 


with  the  unscrupulosity  of  a Bengali  boy, 
and  without  the  slightest  hesitation,  said,  “ I 
dropped  it  into  a ditch  this  morning  on  my 
way  home  from  school.”  The  master  handed 
him  the  book,  and  he  brought  it  home  to 
Boshonto,  giving  it  to  her  at  a moment  when 
no  one  was  by. 

She  now  set  herself  to  learn  the  alphabet, 
bribing  Prionath  to  tell  her  the  letters. 
Sometimes  she  would  ])romise  him  sweet- 
meats, sometimes  she  would  cook  him  a favor- 
ite dish,  sometimes  she  would  give  him  some 
pice.  It  was  slow  work  at  first.  Learning 
to  repeat  the  alphabet  was  easy  enough,  but 
it  was  not  easy  to  remember  the  forms  of 
the  different  letters.  She  got  on,  however, 
slowly  but  surely,  and  with  Prionath  for  her 
only  teacher  and  confidant,  she  contrived  to 
go  right  through  the  book. 

What  was  she  to  read  now?  Prionath, 
merry,  playful  fellow  as  he  was,  had  not  yet 
got  beyond  this  himself.  Indeed,  at  the 
school  no  other  book  was  used,  the  boys 
leaving  the  school  as  soon  as  they  had  mas- 
tered it  and  the  first  book  of  arithmetic. 


46 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


One  day — it  was  Sunday  again — when 
Premchand  was  busy  over  his  books  in  the 
verandah,  she  ventured  near  tlie  boy  and 
asked  him  to  let  her  look  over  them.  He 
was  in  an  amiable  mood  and  permitted  her. 
There  was  that  delightful  Sacontola  with  its 
green  cover.  How  pleased  she  felt  at  being 
able  to  .spell  out  the  name ! The  key  fitted 
into  the  lock ; soon  she  would  be  able  to 
turn  it.  She  o])ened  the  book,  but,  alas ! she 
could  make  nothing  of  it.  She  next  tried 
another;  that,  too,  seemed  incomprehensible. 
So  in  despair  she  thought  she  would  confide 
her  secret  to  Premchand  and  ask  his  advice. 
She  was  at  a loss  to  know  how  to  begin.  At 
last  she  said  : 

“ Premchand,  do  women  ever  learn  to 
read  ?” 

“ Sometimes.  All  English  ladies  ean  read, 
and  some  of  them  have  written  books.  But 
Bengali  women  are  stupid.” 

‘‘  I want  to  tell  you  something,  Prera- 
chand.  No  one  knows  it  yet  but  little  Prio- 
nath.  I have  been  trying  to  learn.  I have 
gone  through  the  spelling-book,  and  now  I 


THE  BREAK  OF  DAWN. 


47 


don’t  know  what  to  read  ; your  books  seem 
to  me  too  difficult.” 

“I  should  think  so.  But  have  you  I’eally 
learned  the  letters?” 

“Yes,  Premchand  ; only  try  me.” 

She  produced  her  book,  and  satisfied  even 
the  fastidious  boy.  He  was  disposed  at  first 
to  laugh  at  her,  but  the  love  of  patronizing 
was  strong  in  him.  So  he  went  away  to  the 
men’s  apai’tments,  and  from  some  hidden 
corner  dragged  out  an  old  tattered  copy  of 
the  third  part  of  a story  which  he  had  long 
ago  thrown  aside.  He  brought  it,  and  came 
and  sat  down  beside  her,  and  gave  her  a les- 
son. Very  proud  did  Boshonto  feel  when 
she  found  she  could  easily  read  about  “ the 
good  boy  und  the  bad  boy,”  and  heartily  did 
she  laugh  at  the  petulance  and  willfulness  of 
“ the  bad  boy,  Beni.”  Prosonno  came  upon 
them  while  thus  employed.  She  expressed 
her  surprise  and  vexation.  But  a few  loving 
words  set  all  right,  and  she  sat  down  with 
them  and  began  to  listen.  After  the  lesson 
was  over,  Premchand,  delighted  to  show  oft' 
even  to  women,  began  to  read  to  them  Sacon- 


48 


THE  DAWX  OF  LIGHT. 


tola.  Bright  Mas  that  hour  to  the  poor 
women.  They  forgot  the  present  in  the 
magical  story  of  the  past.  He  read  to  them 
of  the  loves  of  Sacontola  and  Dushmanto,  of 
the  curse  of  the  fakeer,  of  Sacontola’s  loving 
and  sorrowful  farewell  "when  leaving  the 
hermitage  for  the  court.  The  story  of  the 
little  fawn  pulling  her  back  interested  them 
greatly.  The  interview  with  the  rajah,  his 
strange  forgetfulness,  the  discovery  of  the 
loss  of  the  ring,  the  distress  of  Sacontola,  her 
being  caught  aMay  by  the  Apsaras,  the  find- 
ing of  the  ring  by  the  fishermen,  the  removal 
of  the  spell  from  Dushmanto,  his  grief  and 
long  search  for  his  beloved  Sacontola,  his 
coming  upon  the  child  and  its  mother  unex- 
jiectedly, — all  charmed  Boshonto  and  Pro- 
sonno.  When  Premchand  left  them,  after 
eating  the  sweetmeats  M^hich  Boshonto  had 
provided,  Prosonno  said  to  her  sister-in-law  : 

“ How  nice  it  ■would  be  to  be  able  to  read 
such  stories  to  one’s  self!  I think  I should 
like  to  learn.” 

“ Do,”  said  Boshonto,  “ let  me  teach  you 
the  first  five  letters  to-day.” 


THE  BREAK  OF  DAWN. 


49 


And  so  the  first  lesson  was  given. 

Slowly  but  steadily  did  they  progress. 
Boshonto  taught  Pi’osjuno  all  she  knew,  and 
she  herself,  by  repeatedly  bribing  Prem- 
chand,  managed  to  get  a weekly  lesson.  She 
could  soon  read  pretty  well.  Premchand 
was  generally  commissioned  every  fortnight 
to  bring  her  a book  from  Calcutta.  Alas! 
the  books  he  brought,  purchased  from  the 
native  hawkers,  were  in  vile  type  and  getting 
np,  and  viler  still  in  character.  To  Boshonto, 
however,  who  knew  no  better,  they  were 
treasures.  Wondei'ful  was  it  to  see  how  life 
changed  to  both  Boshonto  and  Prosonno  now  ! 

: As  the  increasino;  light  in  the  cast  changes 

the  aspect  of  all  things  around,  so  life  changed 
for  them  with  the  acquisition  of  the  delight- 
ful art  of  reading.  Thev  now  both  looked 
forward  to  the  hour  when  their  household 
duties  would  be  over,  that  they  might  turn 
to  their  books,  which  were  opening  up  a fresh 
world  of  interest  to  their  awakening  minds. 
The  Saturday  too  was  antici2iated,  for  it 
brought  Premchand,  with  his  ready  help  and 
fresh  purchases.  He  had  begun  to  take  a 

5 


50 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


real  interest  in  their  progress  and  a true  de- 
light in  teaching  such  eager  learners.  Kuraari 
knew  of  the  reading,  but  though  she  did  not 
join  in  it,  she  made  no  opposition.  The 
pundit  and  his  brother  Avere  ignorant  of  it. 
It  is  Avonderful  how  little  the  men  of  a Ben- 
gali household  often  know  of  the  daily  life 
and  occupations  of  the  women. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


BOSHONTO  S GRIEF, 


T was  the  rainy  season.  Vegetation  was 


most  abundant  and  beautiful.  Wherever 
there  was  a garden  plot,  the  lovely  “fragrance 
of  night”  might  be  seen  with  its  snowy  blos- 
soms. Over  every  hedge  the  lai'ge  white- 
moon  flower  opened  with  the  setting  sun  and 
made  the  night  beautiful.  The  tanks  were 
covered  with  the  white  and  crimson  lotus. 
Other  smaller  water -flowers  starred  with 
their  tiny  yet  beautiful  blossoms  every  bit 
of  standing  water.  The  rice-fields  were  like 
green  seas  round  Gopalpore,  gladdening  the 
eye  with  their  luxuriance  and  refreshing  cool 
color.  Not  a day  passed  without  its  heavy 
shower,  but  in  the  intervals  there  were  rich 
gleams  of  sunlight  and  glorious  glimpses  of 
blue  sky,  while  the  sunsets  were  awful  in 
their  wondrous  beauty. 


51 


52 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


Beautiful  is  the  rainy  season  in  India,  but 
treaclierous  in  its  beauty.  The  body  becomes 
strangely  enfeebled,  languor  and  weai’iness 
take  the  place  of  activity  and  energy,  and 
diseases  of  fearful  malignity  prevail. 

One  morning  in  September,  when  little 
Hurish  was  about  two  years  and  a half  old, 
his  mother  was  alarmed  by  seeing  him  look 
very  languid.  He  would  not  run  about  and 
j)lay,  but  just  clung  to  her  and  fretted.  Poor 
Boslionto  was  dreadfully  alarmed,  and  her 
alarm  increased  Avhen,  about  noon,  strong 
fever  came  on.  It  was  Saturday,  and  the 
coming  of  the  pundit  was  anxiously  desired. 
How  slowly  the  hours  sped ! but  at  last  he 
came,  and  immediately  sent  for  the  native 
doctor  of  the  village.  The  doctor  looked  at 
the  child,  felt  his  pulse  and  said  it  was  a bad 
case,  but  that  he  would  undertake  to  cure  the 
boy  if  twenty  rupees  were  paid  down  to  him 
at  once.  He  got  the  money,  uttered  some 
mantras*  gav^e  the  child  some  medicine  and 
promised  to  come  again  in  the  morning.  But 

* Prayvrs  which  are  supposed  to  have  the  power  of 
charms. 


BOSJIONTO'S  GIUEF. 


53 


wlion  morning  dawned  the  child  was  worse. 
Tlie  terrible  epidemic  fever  of  Bengal  had 
seized  on  him — that  fever  which,  like  the 
tiger,  lurks  in  the  jungles  and  morasses. 
Heavily  did  that  day  pass.  On  Monday  he 
was  still  worse.  The  pundit  and  his  brother 
did  not  go  to  Calcutta,  but  sent  Prerachand 
alone,  charging  him  to  make  excuses  for  their 
absence.  All  through  that  day  little  Hurish 
lay  in  a state  of  semi-unconsciousness.  His 
mother’s  voice  alone  had  power  to  rouse  him, 
and  that  for  but  a few  moments.  Toward 
evening  he  died,  calmly  and  quietly,  in  poor 
Boshonto’s  arms. 

AVho  can  describe  her  agony  then?  She 
became  frantic  in  her  anguish,  tearing  her 
hair,  beating  her  breasts  and  wailing  most 
j)iteously : 

“ O my  bird,  why  have  you  left  me  ? Did 
I not  love  you?  Were  you  not  to  me  as 
.sunlight  to  the  earth?  My  little  bird,  my 
cherished,  petted  little  bird,  why  have  you 
flown  away  ? Ah  me  ! I am  a most  unhappy 
woman  ! My  husband  first  left  me,  and  now 
my  little  child  has  gene  away.  What  sin  did 


54 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT, 


I commit  in  a former  state  that  I should  be 
so  heavily  punished  in  this?” 

And  so  it  went  on,  bursts  of  heartbreak- 
ing weeping  intermixed  with  such  words  of 
sorrow.  Kumari  and  Prosonuo  tried  to  com- 
fort her,  but  what  comfort  had  tliey  to  give? 
“ It  was  written  on  your  foi’eliead ; you  can- 
not alter  it;  why,  then,  grieve  so?”  She 
would  not  listen  to  them,  but  pushed  them 
away  and  recommenced  her  wail  over  her 
dead  baby. 

As  soon  as  the  child  was  ascertained  to  be 
really  dead,  preparations  were  commenced  for 
the  burning.  The  pundit  went  and  bought 
the  new  cloth,  the  mat  of  Kusa  grass,  the 
rice,  the  ghee,*  and  the  sandal-wood  powder. 
Boshonto  was  forced  to  give  up  the  loved 
little  body ; it  was  washed,  anointed  with 
ghee,  smeared  with  sandal -wood  powder, 
wraj)ped  in  jmre  white  cloth  and  laid  on  the 
mat  of  Kusa  grass.  The  rice  was  boiled, 
and  a new  little  cot  having  been  procured, 
the  child  was  placed  thereon.  And  now  all 
was  I’cady ; Boshonto  had  only  to  consent  to 
* Butter  made  from  the  milk  of  buffaloes. 


BOSHOXTO  S GRIEF. 


55 


the  parting.  During  all  the  preparations  she 
had  been  sitting  as  if  stupefied,  looking  on 
and  saying  nothing,  but  now  again  her  grief 
found  its  way.  8he  screamed  in  her  agony, 
forbade  them  to  remove  her  child,  and  the 
united  force  of  Kumari  and  Prosonno  and 
some  of  the  neighbors  was  scarcely  sufficient 
to  hold  her  back.  At  last,  howev^er,  the  little 
cot  was  lifted  and  borne  away  amidst  a tem- 
pest of  wailing. 

On  reaching  the  burning-place,  six  miles 
distant,  a funeral  pile  was  erected.  Half  the 
boiled  rice  was  scattered  by  the  wayside  for 
the  crows,  half  made  into  a funeral  cake  and 
placed  on  the  pile  with  the  child.  The  pun- 
dit, after  rejieating  some  mantras,  fired  the 
pile;  the  flame  shot  up  into  the  darkness  (it 
Avas  noAV  nine  o’clock),  and  in  a short  time 
the  little  loved,  potted  body  was  reduced 
to  a heap  of  ashes.  The  two  uncles  and 
those  Avho  assisted  bathed  in  the  stream, 
changed  their  clothes  and  returned  to  their 
homes. 

Poor  Boshonto ! how  desolate  she  felt ! 
For  more  than  twenty-four  hours  she  lay  in 


56 


THE  DAWK  OF  LIGHT. 


the  courtyard  overwhelmed  with  grief;  she 
would  touch  no  food  nor  allow  a drop  of 
water  to  pass  her  lips.  Her  hair  was  dis- 
heveled, her  face  quite  altered,  swollen  with 
weeping  and  with  dark  circles  formed  under 
her  haggard  eyes.  Her  voice,  too,  became 
hoarse  with  continual  crvins:.  On  the  second 
day  a heavy  shower  of  rain  fell ; this  foi’ced 
her  to  get  up  and  go  into  the  house,  and  soon 
sheer  faintness  compelled  her  to  eat  her  joy- 
less portion.  By  degrees  she  beg'an  to  go 
about  as  usual,  Avith  her  eyes  streaming, 
Avhile  every  now  and  then  her  bitter  wail 
might  be  heard  coming  from  some  emjrty 
room,  or,  sitting  along  with  others,  at  unex- 
pected times  her  anguish  would  find  vent  in 
a sudden  cry,  startling  to  those  not  used  to  it. 
With  Hindoo  Avomen  every  feeling  finds  out- 
Avard  expression  ; the  conventionalities  of  so- 
ciety teach  us  to  “ fold  the  robe  o’er  secret 
]iain,”  to  smile  AA'hile  the  heart  is  breaking 
Avithin.  Which  is  better?  The  books  AA'ere 
neglected ; life  became  to  her  a burden. 
Sometimes  she  threatened  to  droAA’n  herself, 
sometimes  to  throAV  herself  down  from  the 


BOSHONTO’S  GRIEF. 


57 


terrace,  but  her  instinctive  love  of  life  saved 
her  in  these  hours  of  frenzy. 

We,  to  whom  life  and  immortality  have 
been  brought  to  light  by  our  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  little  understand  the  hopeless  agony 
of  a Hindoo  mother’s  heart.  When  our  dar- 
lings leave  us,  though  our  arms  may  aelie  to 
hold  their  little  forms  again,  yet  we  are  con- 
tent, knowing  that  the  good  Shepherd  has 
gatliered  our  lambs  in  his  loving  arms.  We 
feel  that  they  are  better  oft’  with  him  in  his 
sweet  and  blessed  fold  than  with  us  in  this 
world  of  darkness  and  sorrow,  and  we  look 
forward  with  joy  to  the  time  when  Christ  will 
restore  our  loved  ones  to  us,  even  as  he  re- 
stored her  son  to  the  widow  at  the  gates  of 
Xain.  But  when  a Hindoo  mother  loses  her 
child,  she  has  no  such  thoughts  to  comfort 
her.  The  child  was  once  hers,  a part  of  her 
very  self;  she  rejoiced  in  it,  but  now  it  is 
gone;  all  is  completely  at  an  end;  she  will 
never  see  it  any  more.  It  is  in  every  sense 
lost — lost  never  to  be  found.  And  so  she 
tries  to  forget  it — to  forget  it  as  we  forget 
some  jewel  which  we  once  thought  much  of. 


58 


THE  DAAVX  OF  LIGHT. 


but  which  Avas  one  clay  irrecoverably  lost, 
stolen  by  thieves  or  dropped  by  the  wayside. 

O God  of  infinite  compassion,  who  didst 
])ity  Rachel  mourning  for  her  children  and 
refusing  to  be  comforted,  pity  the  women  of 
India,  and  let  the  light  of  thy  glorious  gospel 
.speedily  lighten  their  darkness!  And  thou 
who  didst  yearn  over  Ephraim  bemoaning 
himself  in  anguish  when  his  brave  sons  were 
cruelly  slain,  let  thy  heart  yearn  over  the 
men  of  India  when  they  too  mourn  sadly 
and  hopelessly  over  the  destruction  of  their 
brightest  hopes ! 


CHAPTER  V. 

LIGHT  IN  DAEKNE8S. 

NE  day,  some  months  after  the  death  of 


the  child,  a neighbor  came  in,  brim- 
ming with  news.  She  sat  down,  and  the  talk 
began : 

“ Have  you  heard  of  the  robbery  at  Kash- 
inauth’s  ?” 

“ No ; what  about  it?” 

‘‘  Well,  last  night,  when  they  were  all 
asleep,  somebody  entered  the  house  and  took 
off  all  the  ornaments  from  the  Little  Bow.”  * 
“ Did  she  not  wake?” 

“ Gopal’s  mother  says  she  remembers  hear- 
ing the  girl  moving  restlessly ; she  drew  her 
close  to  her  and  hushed  her,  but  she  knows 
nothing  more.  This  morning,  when  they 
got  up,  they  found  the  Bow  without  any 


* Son’s  wife. 


59 


60 


THE  DAWX  OP  LIGHT. 


ornaments;  her  ear-rings,  anklets,  bracelets, 
necklets  and  waist-chain  all  gone.” 

“At  how  much  do  they  reckon  the  loss?” 
“Forty  rupees,  they  say.  The  ornaments 
were  all  silver,  but  very  heavy.  The  waist- 
chain  must  have  weighed  fifteen  rupees.” 

“ Strange ! Some  one  in  the  house  must 
have  committed  the  theft.” 

“So  I say,  but  they  think  it  could  not 
have  been  so.  Thieves  must  have  entered 
from  without,  for  the  house-door  was  found 
broken  open.” 

“ That  may  have  been  done  for  a blind. 
I don’t  like  that  Gopak  I think  he  is  a bad 
boy.  I suspect  he  has  been  gambling  lately, 
and  must  have  been  in  want  of  money.” 

“ AVho  knows  ? This  is  a strange  world. 
Everything  is  changing.  Have  you  seen 
Bungshi  Baboo’s  Boav  since  she  returned 
fi-om  Calcutta?” 

“ No ; has  she  come  back  ?” 

“Yes;  she  returned  on  Friday.  She  was 
at  home  six  months,  and  what  do  you  think  ? 
she  has  learned  to  read  and  to  do  fancy- 
work.” 


LIGHT  IN  DARKNESS. 


61 


“ Astouisliing  ! Have  you  seen  any  of  lier 
work  ?” 

“Yes.  She  has  brought  her  husband  a 
pair  of  slippers  and  her  father-in-law  a cap, 
both  worked  by  herself,  and  she  says  that 
in  her  father’s  house  every  one  is  learning  to 
read  and  work.” 

“ Wonderful ! wonderful ! How  do  they 
learn  ?” 

“An  English  lady  goes  twice  a week  to 
teach  them,  and  a native  teacher,  a learned 
woman,  goes  every  day.  The  Bow  says  this 
English  lady  is  about  twenty,  and  not  mar- 
ried.” 

“ Not  married ! What  can  her  parents 
have  been  thinking  about  to  allow  her  to  be 
unmarried  at  such  an  age?” 

“ Oh,  Oomoo  says  English  parents  have 
nothing  at  all  to  do  with  the  marriage  of 
their  daughters,  and  that  they  never  marry 
young,  as  we  do.  They  generally  marry 
when  they  are  eighteen  or  twenty,  and  some- 
times when  they  are  even  thirty,  and  then 
tlicy  only  marry  from  love.” 

“ Strange  people  they  must  be  ! But  tell 
6 


62 


THE  DAAVN  OF  I>IGHT. 


US  about  this  English  girl.  What  does  Oomoo 
say  she  is  like?” 

“ She  is  fair,  with  brown  eyes  and  brown 
hair.  And  Oomoo  says  she  has  such  a pleas- 
ant laugh  and  says  such  winning  words.” 
Here  poor  Boshonto  was  aroused,  and  said, 
“ I wish  I could  see  her.” 

“ Oomoo  says  she  has  asked  her  to  come 
here  and  teach  us  all.” 

‘‘Do  you  think  she  will  come?” 

“ How  can  I tell  ? I hope  she  may,  for  I 
have  never  seen  an  English  lady,  even  at  a 
distance.  But  I must  go  now,  for  it  is  time 
to  begin  cooking.” 

So,  having  exhausted  her  stock  of  gossip, 
the  old  woman  took  her  departure. 

Some  days  passed.  Boshonto  often  thought 
of  the  English  girl  with  her  pleasant  laugh 
and  wished  she  could  see  her.  Prosonno 
longed  to  look  at  the  work  and  learn  how  to 
do  it.  Kumari’s  curiosity  also  was  aroused. 

At  last,  one  Thursday,  Taramoni,  who  hap- 
pened to  have  been  out,  came  home  in  a state 
of  great  excitement : 

“ What  do  you  think  ? That  English  lady 


LIGHT  IN  DARKNESS. 


63 


about  whom  Heeralal’s  mother  told  us  the 
other  day  is  at  Bungshi  Baboo’s.” 

“ Have  you  seen  her  ?”  said  the  three 
women  together. 

“ Yes ; she  is  very  sweet.  She  looked  at 
me  so  lovingly  and  spoke  to  me  so  kindly. 
She  must  be  like  the  angels.  And  she  has 
brought  beautiful  work  with  her,  and  pic- 
tui’es — oh,  such  wonderful  pictures ! She  has 
a porti’ait  of  the  queen  of  England,  and,  won- 
derful to  say,  she  is  our  queen  too.  She  is  a 
widow  now.” 

“ Alas  ! poor  woman  !” 

“ Her  husband  died  two  years  ago,  and 
she  loved  him  very  dearly.  But  she  has 
several  children,  princes  and  princesses.  She 
has  also  two  sons-in-law  and  one  daughter- 
in-law  who  is  very  beautiful.” 

“ Could  you  not  ask  the  lady  to  come  here, 
Pesee  Ma  ?”  said  Boshonto. 

“ Do ! do !”  called  out  Kumari  and  Pro- 
son  no.  “Tell  her  we  cannot  go  to  see  her, 
so  beg  of  her  to  come  and  see  us.” 

Taramoni  depai'ted  on  her  errand,  and  the 
women  waited  in  eager  expectation.  At 


64 


THE  DAWN  3F  LIGHT. 


length,  after  half  an  hour  had  passed,  the 
lady  was  seen  approaching,  followed  by  a 
long  train  of  all  the  boys  and  girls  of  the 
place.  “ Come  in ! come  in !”  said  the  women, 
and  they  led  her  straight  to  the  upper  veran- 
dah looking  down  on  the  women’s  court. 
Kumari  unceremoniously  turned  out  the 
children,  but  admitted  several  women  who 
came  from  the  neighboring  houses  through 
back  ways.  Twenty  eager  faces  crowded 
round  the  fair  English  girl,  and  in  five  min- 
utes she  had  won  all  their  hearts.  Little 
Kamini  was  admired  and  caressed ; Pro- 
sonno  condoled  with  on  her  childless  con- 
dition ; and  the  pitying  look  with  which  the 
story  of  Boshonto’s  sulFerings  was  heard  went 
to  the  desolate  widow’s  heart. 

Kumari  and  Prosonno  were  full  of  ques- 
tions. The  work  was  exhibited.  Beautiful 
slippers,  rich  with  glowing  roses;  caps,  bril- 
liant with  crimson  cherries  twisting  round 
their  borders ; comforters,  soft  and  warm,  the 
delight  of  Hindoo  gentlemen ; rugs,  hookah- 
carpets,  etc.  And  then  the  pictures.  A pho- 
tograjihic  album  was  produced.  The  portrait 


The  Zenana  Lady. 


Page  61. 


LIGHT  IN  DARKNESS. 


65 


of  the  queen  elicited  no  end  of  questions.  They 
were  told  how  wisely  she  ruled  her  nation,  how 
])rudently  she  brought  up  her  children,  how 
devoted  she  had  been  to  her  husband  in  life, 
and  now  that  he  was  gone,  how  she  looked 
forward  to  meet  him  in  a better  land.  A 
colored  picture  of  the  sweet  princess  of  ^^^alcs 
Avas  much  admired  ; her  lovely  blue  eyes  and 
golden  hair,  the  flowers  in  her  hair  and  the 
diamonds  round  her  neck,  were  all  comment- 
ed on.  Picture  after  picture  was  shown  to 
them,  and  something  told  about  each.  At 
length  there  came  a little  child  sitting  on 
a sofa,  a baby  of  a year  old.  “ Whose  child 
is  this?”  The  question  was  answered  and 
the  remark  added : “ He  is  now  in  heaven.” 
This  remark,  however,  seemed  to  attract  no 
one  but  Boshonto,  and  even  she,  though  an 
eager  light  shone  in  her  eye  and  a question 
trembled  on  her  lip,  let  it  go  unnoticed ; so 
an  hour  passed  away  most  rapidly  and  hap- 
j)ily.  Then  the  lady  said,  “ I will  sing  to 
you.”  Great  was  their  delight.  She  read  to 
them  a simple  Bengali  hymn  about  the  hapj)V 
land  and  its  glories,  and  then  sang.  The 
6 * 


66 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


women  listened  eagerly ; one  old  woman 
Avej)t  as  she  heard  it.  But  Boshonto  pressed 
nearer,  entranced ; she  never  forgot  some  of’ 
the  lines. 

Then  came  the  question,  “Will  any  of  you 
learn  to  read  and  work  ?”  Prosonno  volun- 
teered, and  told  all  she  knew.  She  was  en- 
couraged ; a copy  of  “Gopal  Kamini”  and 
a piece  of  canvas  were  given  to  her,  and  she 
was  taught  a simple  stitch.  Boshonto  Avould 
not  say  anything;  it  seemed  to  her  improper 
to  be  busy  and  haj)py  Avhen  her  little  boy 
was  reduced  to  a heap  of  ashes.  Some  of  the 
women  from  the  other  houses  also  agreed  to 
learn,  and  spelling-books  and  j)ieces  of  work 
were  distributed.  So  the  English  lady  went 
away,  promising  to  come  again  in  a fortnight. 
“ Be  sure  you  come !”  was  repeated  to  her  on 
every  side  as  she  left  the  door. 

And  she  did  come;  every  fortnight  did 
that  brave  English  girl  journey  to  Gojial- 
pore,  and  Thiu’sday,  the  day  of  her  coming, 
was  eagerly  looked  for.  Prosonno,  having 
the  visit  in  j>rospect,  jirepared  diligently,  so 
that  she  might  be  able  to  read  some  pages 


LIGHT  IN  DARKNESS. 


67 


fluently  and  receive  the  approving  smile  and 
word.  “ Gopal  Kamini”  was  soon  finished; 
“Phulinani  and  Karuna”  followed.  Kumari 
expressed  a wish  to  learn,  and  having  ob- 
tained a small  simple  book,  set  to  work. 
Jioshonto,  the  cleverest,  held  back  for  a time. 
At  length  she  also  was  tempted  to  read.  All 
were  eager  to  work.  A^erv  soon  each  had 
worked  a pair  of  pretty  slippers — Kumari 
and  Prosonno  for  their  husbands,  and  poor 
Boshonto  for  Premchand,  her  true  friend, 
but  one  oftentimes  difficult  to  manage.  The 
women  from  the  neighboring  houses  were 
learning  also,  and  every  other  Thursday  used 
to  come  to  the  pundit’s,  in  order  to  see  the 
English  lady  and  be  encouraged  and  helped 
by  her. 

Thus  the  life  that  had  once  been  so  dim  and 
colorless  brightened  for  these  poor  women. 
The  gay-colored  wools  threw  a gleam  upon 
their  daily  paths ; the  books  with  their  cha- 
racters peopled  the  realms  of  their  imagina- 
tion. It  was  pleasant  to  see  Kumari,  Pro- 
sonno and  Boshonto  sitting  on  a mat  in  the 
verandah  witli  their  books  and  Avork.  They 


68 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


always  read  aloud,  and  Boshonto  being  the 
best  reader,  Kuuiari  and  Prosonno  would 
work  and  listen  while  she  was  reading. 

The  pundit  and  his  brother  were  now  will- 
ing that  their  wives  should  learn  something. 
Spending  much  of  their  time  in  Calcutta, 
they  had  been  influenced  in  their  views  by 
the  tide  of  reformation  setting  in  there.  Had 
they  made  any  opposition,  all  would  have 
gone  wrong,  for  in  the  hands  of  the  men  lie 
the  destinies  of  the  women  of  India.  AVould 
that  all  were  ready  to  accept  the  change,  and 
w'ere  willing  to  elevate  woman  to  her  true 
social  rank  and  pasition  ! 


CHAPTER  VI. 


PROSOXXO’s  TROUBLE. 

T was  well  for  Prosonno  that  she  had 


learned  to  read  and  work,  for  a heavy 
sorrow  was  coining — the  heaviest  a Hindoo 
woman  has  to  bear,  short  of  losing  her  hus- 
band. She  had  been  married  when  she  was 
eight  years  old ; four  years  after  that,  she 
had  come  to  her  husband’s  house  to  dwell, 
and  now  eight  years  had  passed  and  no  child 
had  come  to  gladden  her  heart.  Hindoo  men 
long  for  a child,  especially  a son.  Without  a 
son  they  can  look  forward  to  no  proper  fune- 
ral obsequies,  and  as  their  future  happine.ss 
depends  on  the  ceremony  then  performed, 
this  is  a matter  of  great  moment  to  them. 
Jodunath  longed  for  a boy  as  much  as  any 
of  his  fellow-countrymen.  Often  in  his  anger 
about  some  trifling  thing  he  remembered  his 
greater  wrong,  as  he  chose  to  think  it,  and 


69 


70 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


abused  Prosonno  for  not  bearing  liim  a son, 
I’oor  Prosonno ! she  would  have  given  away 
every  one  of  her  jewels — her  sole  wealth — if 
she  could  thus  have  procured  a son.  She 
envied  every  woman  she  saw  with  a child, 
and  oftentimes  bemoaned  her  fate  and  cried 
in  her  sorrow. 

One  day  Joduuath  said,  “It  is  of  no  use 
to  wait  any  longer;  Prosonno  will  never  be 
a mother.  I must  marry  another  wife  if  I 
wish  all  to  go  right  with  me  hereafter.”  The 
pundit  agreed  with  him,  and  they  determined 
to  begin  with  telling  Prosonno.  So  calling 
the  women  together,  they  told  them  what 
they  were  going  to  do.  Prosonno  said 
nothing,  for  childless  women  always  keep 
their  faces  covered  before  their  husbands, 
and  may  never  be  seen  to  speak  to  them. 
The  pundit  said  he  would  send  for  a Ghot- 
tock*  on  going  back  to  Calcutta,  to  make 
* One  who  is  employed  by  parents  to  look  out  for 
suitable  partners  for  their  children.  The  extreme 
rigidity  of  Hindoo  custom  relating  to  the  early  age  of 
marriage,  the  families  with  which  an  alliance  is  alone 
permissible,  the  degrees  of  consanguinity  which  must 
be  considered,  and  the  seclusion  of  •ill  respectable 


PROSONXO’S  TROUBLE. 


71 


arrangements.  They  then  left  the  women  to 
talk  over  the  matter. 

As  soon  as  they  were  gone,  Prosonno  burst 
into  tears.  Then  came  a storm  of  indigna- 
tion against  her  Imsband.  He  does  not 
love  me,  the  bad  man  ! Ah  me ! what  a sad 
1 fate  was  written  on  my  forehead  ! Why  has 
not  the  Almighty  given  me  a son?”  So  she 
went  on. 

The  Thursday  after  this  the  English  lady 
i came.  She  noticed  at  once  the  cloud  on  Pro- 
I sonno’s  usually  bright  and  cheerful  face,  and 
I asked  her  what  was  the  matter.  She  was 
( told.  “Yours  is  a hard  case,”  she  said, 
‘ “ but  let  me  tell  you  two  stories  about  men 
^ who  had  two  wives.” 

She  then  told  her  of  Rachel  and  Leah  ; of 
! Rachel’s  passionate  desire  for  children,  and 
how,  when  her  desire  was  granted,  her  life 
, went.  Then  of  Hannah  and  Peninnah ; of 

* women,  wliieh  makes  a personal  acquaintance  with 
them  impossible, — all  render  the  employment  of  such 
persons  expedient,  if  not  in  all  cases  necessary. 

As  a rule,  Hindoos  have  but  one  wife,  but  their  having 
no  son  is  supposed  to  justify,  if  not  necessitate,  the  selec- 
tion of  a second. 


72 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


Hannah’s  jwayer,  of  God  giving  her  the  child 
for  whom  she  prayed,  and  of  the  surrender- 
ing of  him  back  to  God.  Prosonno  listened 
eagerly,  and  said,  “ Pray  for  me,  pray  very 
earnestly,  that  the  Almighty  would  give  me 
seven  sons,  and  if  he  should  do  so,  I promise 
you  one  to  be  brought  up  by  you  and  to  be 
made  a Christian,  if  you  wish  it.”  She  was 
reminded  of  Rachel,  and  told  that  perhaps 
God  refused  her  a child  out  of  love.  This 
was  a new  idea  to  the  poor  woman — one  she 
could  not  readily  grasp.  It  is  only  Chris- 
tianity that  teaches  us  that  “ whom  the  Lord 
loveth  he  chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every 
son  whom  he  receiveth.”  To  Christians  only 
is  it  given  to  see  through  the  disguise  worn 
by  blessings  when  they  come  to  us  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  sorrows. 

One  Saturday  after  this,  when  the  Baboos 
returned,  Boshonto  contrived  to  draw  Prem- 
chand  aside  and  ask  him  what  had  been 
done.  Prosonno  remained  within  hearing, 
of  course.  He  told  her  that  the  prelimi- 
naries had  been  settled.  The  Ghottock  had 
mentioned  two  or  three  families  where  there 


PEOSONNO’S  TROUBLE. 


73 


were  eligible  daughters.  One  in  particular, 
a child  of  nine  or  ten,  was  described  as  being 
very  pretty.  “She  was  of  a yellow  color, 
had  a nose  like  the  flower  of  the  sesamum, 
legs  taper  like  the  plantain  tree,  and  eyes 
large,  like  the  principal  leaf  of  the  lotus ; 
her  eyebrows  extended  to  her  ears,  her  lips 
were  red  like  the  young  leaves  of  the  mango 
tree,  her  lace  was  like  the  full  moon,  her 
voice  like  tlie  sound  of  the  cuckoo,  her  arms 
reached  to  her  knees,  her  throat  was  like  that 
of  a pigeon  and  her  teeth  were  like  the  seeds 
of  a pomegranate.”  The  name  of  this  beauty 
was  Juggotarini,  and  her  father  was  a wealthy 
man,  a Brahmin,  of  course,  for  a Brahmin 
would  not  marry  out  of  his  caste.  The  Ghot- 
tock  had  gone  to  and  fro  between  the  houses, 
and  the  terms  of  marriage  were  nearly  settled. 
The  bride  was  to  bring  with  her  five  hundred 
rupees’  worth  of  jewels.  Premchand  said  he 
believed  the  wedding  would  come  off  in  a 
fortnight. 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  with 
Premchand,  the  pundit  had  called  his  wdfe 
into  their  sleeping-room  and  told  her  the 
7 


74 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


whole  story.  AVoman-like,  she  showed  her 
sadness  in  her  face.  He  rejiroved  her  for 
her  folly,  said  his  brother  ought  to  marry 
another  wife,  since  so  much  of  his  future 
hap{)iness  depended  on  it,  and  told  her  slie 
must  reconcile  Prosonno  to  her  sister-wife. 

Prosonno  was  a brave  woman.  She  never  ' 
spoke  to  her  husband  against  the  marriage. 
AVhen  he  told  her  of  it,  she  listened  in  silence, 
then  only  said,  “Do  just  as  you  please.”  Yet  i 
every  day  she  had  a bitter  cry  in  anticipation 
of  the  coming  event. 

That,  however,  did  not  take  place  as  soon 
as  Premchand  expected.  There  were  many 
things  to  be  settled  about  the  gifts  on  either 
side,  and  each  party  tried  to  make  the  best 
terms.  Sometimes  it  seemed  as  if  nothing 
would  come  of  it ; then,  again,  the  Ghottock 
would  go  between,  and  it  would  ajipear  defi-  • 
nitely  settled.  At  last,  after  two  months  of  j 
negotiation,  all  was  arranged.  f 

One  Saturday  evening  the  pundit  told  his  ^ 
wife  that  he  and  his  brother  had  taken  a i 
week’s  holiday ; the  marriage  would  be  cele- 
brated that  V eek ; to-morrow  they  were  going 


PROSONKO’S  TROUBLE. 


75 


to  Calcutta  and  would  return  on  Thursday, 
bringing  the  little  Bow  with  them.  They 
must  receive  her  kindly  and  try  to  make  her 
hap])y. 

Accordingly,  next  day  the  two  men  started, 
accompanied  by  Premchand  and  Prionath. 
Prionath  was  full  of  glee ; he  had  never  been 
to  the  great  city  before,  and  it  was  a joy  to 
go  now,  just  when  some  good  feasting  and 
fun  were  at  hand.  Poor  Prosonno  saw  them 
go  in  silence,  but  when  they  had  gone,  she 
sobbed  and  cried  most  piteously.  It  was 
long  before  she  Avould  be  comforted.  During 
the  five  days  the  men  were  absent  much  had 
to  be  done.  Everything  was  put  in  order 
and  a stock  of  nice  things  laid  in.  A num- 
ber of  toys  was  procured,  that  the  little  bride 
might  have  something  to  amuse  her.  Little 
Kamini  was  full  of  eagerness  and  curiosity ; 
she  seemed  to  be  looking  forward  to  having 
a playfellow. 

Thursday  came,  and  about  four  o’clock  in 
the  afternoon,  Kamini,  who  had  been  Avatch- 
ing,  came  running  in,  saying:  ‘‘They  are 
coming ! they  are  coming !”  A carriage 


76 


THE  DAWN  or  LIGHT. 


flrawn  by  two  wearied  ponies  stopped  at  the 
entrance.  The  pundit  and  his  brother  jump- 
ed out  first,  and  then  Jodunath  lifted  out  the 
child-wife.  She  was  followed  by  a female 
servant  of  the  family  to  which  she  belonged. 
In  another  carriage  were  Pi’emchand,  Pri- 
onath  and  two  members  of  the  bride’s  family. 
The  little  bride  was  enveloped  in  a purple 
silk  saree^  which  left  nothing  of  her  visible 
but  her  little  ankleted  feet.  Taramoni  re- 
ceived her,  and  led  her  into  the  Avomen’s 
court.  There  all  the  Avomen  gathered  round 
her,  for  Prosonno  even  Avas  not  Avithout  curi- 
osity. They  lifted  the  A’eil  from  off  her  face 
and  made  their  comments  freely.  The  poor 
child  Avas  frighteneff,  and  burst  into  tears. 
“ I AA’ant  to  go  home,”  A\-as  all  her  cry.  Tara- 
moni and  Kumari  tried  to  soothe  her,  and 
even  little  Kamini  did  her  best,  but  it  Avas 
long  before  the  little  one  could  be  comforted.* 
At  last  she  fell  asleep  in  the  arms  of  the  ser- 

* Since  every  girl  is  married  whilst  yet  a child,  and 
widows  are  not  allowed  to  marry,  widowers  and  those 
choosing  a second  wife  can  only  obtain  wives  who  are 
mere  children. 


PROSONNO’S  TROUBLE. 


77 


vant  who  had  come  with  her.  After  an 
hour’s  sleep  she  awoke  more  cheerful,  ate  the 
sweetmeats  provided  for  her  and  looked  at 
the  box  of  toys  Kumari  had  brought.  Little 
Kamini  produced  her  box,  and  the  two  chil- 
dren were  soon  busily  engaged  comparing  each 
other’s  toys.  Every  little  girl  possesses  a 
box  of  toys.  As  she  grows  older  a larger 
box  is  substituted  for  the  little  one,  and  these 
boxes,  with  their  miscellaneous  contents,  are 
treasured  even  by  growii-up,  married  women, 
and  much  of  their  time  is  spent  in  arranging 
and  rearranging  their  possessions.  In  the 
course  of  years  these  possessions  assume  a 
peculiar  character.  In  addition  to  the  little 
dolls  with  which  the  boxes  were  stocked  at 
first,  there  may  be  seen  earthen  imitations  of 
fruits,  winnowing  fans,  ovens,  bits  of  gay 
chintz,  pieces  of  colored  glass,  fragments  of 
broken  earthenware  — in  fact,  everything 
bright  and  pretty  which  may  have  chanced 
to  come  in  the  way. 

The  bride  was  really  very  nice  looking. 
She  had  large  bright  eyes ; her  hair  was  nice- 
ly oiled  and  tied,  and  her  jewels  seemed 
7 * 


78 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


quite  to  weigli  her  down.  Her  pretty  ankles 
were  circled  with  silver  anklets,  and  each  of 
her  toes  had  a silver  ring.  To  these  anklets 
and  rings  silver  bells  were  attached  which 
made  music  as  she  walked.  A heavy  chain 
of  silver  was  round  her  waist.  A beautiful 
diik  or  necklace  was  round  her  neck,  and  be- 
low it  hung  a five-stranded  chain  of  gold 
beads,  called  a panchnoli.  Her  ears  had  the 
usual  complement  of  ear-rings,  some  of  them 
very  beautiful ; her  arms  were  covered  with 
bracelets,  above  which  were  three  kinds  of 
armlets.  On  her  head  there  was  a beautiful 
yet  peculiar  ornament,  called  a siti,  and  in  her 
nose  a large  ring  set  with  a pearl  and  two 
rubies.  All  these  Avere  of  gold,  for  sih^er  is 
worn  only  on  the  waist  and  feet.  She  AA^as 
very  different  from  our  Avhite-robed,  lovely 
brides,  but  yet  she  looked  very  pretty.  She 
Avas  much  petted  during  the  days  she  spent  at 
Gopalpore  by  all  but  Prosonno,  and  though 
every  noAv  and  then  she  cried  and  said  she 
Avanted  to  go  home,  she  Avas  on  the  Avhole 
tolerably  happy.  After  nine  days,  her  father 
and  tAvo  elder  brothers  came  to  fetch  her 


PROSONXO’S  TROUBLE. 


79 


home,  and  very  glad  she  was  to  go  with  them. 
She  was  too  young  to  realize  that  she  would 
have  to  eonie  after  a time  and  stay  altogether 
with  her  new  friends,  and  with  the  husband 
of  whom  she  knew  nothing,  toward  whom 
her  only  feeling  was  one  of  fear.  Poor  little 
Juggottarini ! what  a dim,  hazy  future  lies  be- 
fore thee!  It  may  be  lighted  up  with  love 
or  darkened  with  the  bitterest  hate  and  de- 
s|)air. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A CHAIN  FASTENED  IN  HEAVEN. 

NE  day,  some  weeks  after  the  marriage, 


when  Kumari,  Prosonno,  Boshonto  and 
some  women  from  the  neighboring  houses 
Avere  busy  working  and  reading,  and  the 
English  lady  was  among  them,  a female 
singer  entered  the  courtyard  and  asked  if  she 
might  sing.  She  Avas  a stranger  at  Gopalpore 
and  had  evidently  come  there  as  an  experi- 
ment, thinking  that  her  songs  might  be  ncAV 
to  them.  She  was  not  mistaken.  Hearing 
these  singers  is  one  of  the  fcAV  pleasures  Avhich 
native  women  have.  The  books  and  work 
Avere  immediately  thrown  aside,  and  the  lady 
Avas  asked  if  she  Avould  listen  also.  She  glad- 
ly consented,  but  stipulated  that  nothing  un- 
holy should  be  sung. 

The  woman  commenced ; she  had  in  her 


80 


A CHAIN  FASTENED  IN  HEAVEN.  81 


hands  two  little  metal  plates,  connected  by  a 
chain,  which  she  struck  together  at  intervals, 
so  marking  time;  her  voice  was  clear  and  full, 
and  every  word  was  distinctly  ])ronoum!cd. 
She  first  sang  a touching  song  about  the  heart, 
which,  translated,  rau  thus  : 

“O  Heart,  although  tliou  dwellest  in  this  clay, 

Thou  seerast  more  severed  from  me  every  day  ; 

For  what  I would  not,  that  I do  alway. 

“The  paths  of  evil-doing  become  mine; 

I drink  with  eagerness  sin’s  crimson  wine. 

Feeling  the  while  the  horror  of  its  shine. 

“ I aim  aloft,  I stretch  my  hands  on  higli. 

To  grasp  the  moon  set  in  the  starry  sky. 

O Heart,  thou  bringst  me  down,  and  low  I lie. 

“What  shall  I do  for  all  the  burning  smart. 

The  dreary  trouble,  thou  dost  aye  impart. 

Keeping  me  back  from  all  I wish,  O Heart? 

“ Wert  thou  but  holy.  Heart,  thou  wouldst  not  roam 
From  thing  to  thing,  from  land  to  ocean’s  foam. 
Seeking  the  jewel  waiting  thee  at  home. 

“0  Heart,  be  kind  and  merciful  to  me. 

Then  from  this  deadly  fear  I shall  be  free, 

And  calmly  the  Death-angel’s  visage  see. 


82 


THE  DAWN  or  LIGHT. 


“ Let  me,  O Heart,  but  worship  God  ariglit. 

Bending  most  trutlifully  before  his  sight. 

Then  evermore  will  shine  round  me  his  light. 

“ The  hours  speed  on  ; death  may  come  any  day, 
Making  thee  hasten  from  these  scenes  away: 

O Heart,  not  many  years  hast  thou  to  stay. 

“Call  thou  on  Krishna,  Heart,  ay,  call,  for  lie 
Will  never  fail  his  worshipers;  of  thee 
He  will  make  such  a heart  as  thou  shouldst  be.” 

After  this  was  duly  applauded,  she  began 
another — the  lament  of  a mother  over  her 
child.  The  Bengali  seems  untranslatable  in 
its  pathos  and  despair.  Hearing  it  seems 
like  listening  to  Kachel  mourning  over  her 
children  and  refusing  to  be  comforted  : 

“Why,  Gopal,  hast  thou  closed  thine  eyes? 

* Alas!  alas!  my  Gopal ! 

Oh,  let  me  hear  thee  call  out.  Mother ! 

It  will  revive  my  fainting  heart. 

Alas!  alas!  where  shall  I go? 

Where  shall  I find  my  Gopal? 

Thy  moon-like  face  has  withered  away, 

And  my  soul  also  pines  away.” 

The  singer  sang  it  sweetly  and  with  deep 
feeling.  Boshonto  listened  until  her  tears 


A CHAIN  FASTENED  IN  HEAVEN.  83 


began  to  rain  down ; with  a bitter  cry  she 
rose  up  and  rushed  into  one  of  the  inner 
rooms.  “ Poor  thing ! she  is  crying  about 
little  Hurish/’  said  Prosonno.  “Let  me  go 
and  speak  to  her,”  said  the  English  lady; 
“ perhaps  I shall  be  able  to  comfort  her.” 
So  she  went  and  sat  by  the  broken-hearted 
mother  and  began  talking  to  her  about  her 
child.  By  degrees  Boshonto  became  calmer, 
and  told  her  all  about  his  illness  and  death  ; 
then  she  dwelt  on  his  winning  ways,  and  re- 
peated many  little  sayings  of  his,  nothing  at 
all  in  themselves,  but  very  precious  to  the 
mother’s  heart,  and  then  burst  out  into  a wail, 
again  repeating  the  words  of  the  lament : 

“Oh,  let  me  hear  thee  call  out,  Mother! 

It  will  revive  my  fainting  heart.” 

“ Would  you  like  to  know  where  he  is  ?” 
was  asked  quietly. 

Boshonto  stopped  her  wail,  and  said, 
eagerly : 

“ Oh  yes ! Do  you  remember  the  first  day 
you  came,  how  you  showed  us  the  picture  of 
a little  child,  and  said,  ‘ That  child  is  now  in 


84 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


heaven  ’ ? I have  often  thought  of  it  and 
wondered  what  you  meant.” 

“ Well,  if  you  will  listen  to  me  quietly,  I 
will  tell  you  all  about  it.  We  believe  there 
is  a place  called  heaven.  It  is  very  far  away — 
how  far  no  one  knows,  but  it  is  beyond  the 
clouds,  beyond  the  sun,  beyond  the  stars 
which  we  see  at  night.  This  heaven  is  a 
beautiful  place — far  more  beautiful  than  this 
country  or  even  England.  There  is  never 
any  night  there;  it  is  never  cold  and  never 
hot,  but  the  air  is  always  soft  and  pleasant; 
the  river  of  life  flows  through  it,  and  there 
abound  fountains  of  living  water.  The  people 
who  live  there  are  holy  people;  they  are  al- 
ways happy ; they  never  get  sick,  never  die, 
and  we  believe  that  all  little  children  who 
die  go  to  that  beautiful  country.” 

“ But  I don’t  understand ; what  country 
is  this  ?•” 

“ It  is  the  home  of  God.  God  dwells  and 
reigns  there.” 

“ But  how  am  I to  know  that  my  little 
boy  Hurish  has  gone  there?” 

‘‘  Our  holy  book  teaches  us  that  all  little 


A CHAIN  FASTENED  IN  HEAVEN.  85 


children,  when  they  die,  go  at  once  to 
heaven.” 

“ Oh,  I wish  I believed  in  your  book ! 
Do  not  grown-up  people,  when  they  die,  go 
there  too?” 

“ Yes,  if  they  take  the  right  way.  If  you 
wish  to  go  to  any  house,  you  cannot  reach  it 
unless  you  take  the  right  way.  Should  you 
miss  the  right  path  and  take  a wrong  turn- 
ing,  you  may  wander  very  far  from  the  house 
and  never  reach  it  at  all.” 

“But  you  say  little  children  get  there?” 

“Yes;  they  have  no  knowledge,  and  so 
God  leads  them  himself,  and  they  cannot 
miss  the  right  road.” 

“I  wish  you  would  teach  me  the  way.  I 
should  so  like  to  go  and  see  my  little  Hurish 
again.” 

Here  unfortunately  there  was  an  interrup- 
tion. The  singer,  having  gone  through  her 
stock  of  songs,  wished  to  go  away,  and  came 
to  ask  if  the  lady  would  give  her  a few  pice. 
The  pice  were  given,  and  it  was  thought  best 
to  say  nothing  more  to  Boshonto.  They  went 
back  to  the  verandah,  and  the  reading  and 
8 


86 


THE  DAWK  OF  L^GHT. 


work  proceeded.  Before  slie  left,  the  women 
were  clamorous  for  a song,  so  she  sang : 

“Here  we  suffer  grief  and  pain,” 

explaining  each  verse.  Boshonto  drank  in  the 
words  eagerly,  and  begged  that  the  verse — 

“ Little  children  will  be  there” — 

might  be  repeated  two  or  three  times,  that 
she  might  learn  it  by  heart. 

That  night  it  was  very  warm.  The  women 
lay  out  upon  the  terrace  and  fell  asleep  under 
the  light  of  the  stars.  Boshonto  was  awake 
several  hours.  She  looked  up  at  the  beautiful 
sky,  and  thought  of  tlie  country  which  was 
beyond  those  stars.  “ How  strange  that  there 
the  heat  of  the  sun  is  never  felt !”  she  thought. 
“It  must  be  a beautiful  place.  I think  the 
lady  S]ioke  of  fountains  and  springs  of  water. 
I Avish  we  had  some  of  those  lovely  foun- 
tains and  springs  here.  Our  tanks  are  dry- 
ing up,  owing  to  the  long  drouglit.  I should 
like  to  read  the  Christians’  holy  book.  I 
think  they  must  liave  so  much  comfort.  My 
poor  little  Hurish  ! I neA^er  before  thought 
of  his  being  in  such  a beautiful  place — never 


A CHAIN  FASTENKD  IN  HEAVEN.  87 


thought  I should  see  him  again.  Xow,  if  all 
this  should  be  true,  I may  see  him  again.  I 
wonder  if  he  will  put  his  arms  around  my 
neck  and  kiss  me  as  he  used  to  do?  O 
Hurish,  my  bird,  why  did  you  leave  me  at 
all  when  you  were  so  fond  of  me?  But  the 
lady  said  there  was  only  one  way  to  heaven, 
and  if  I did  not  find  that  way,  I should  not 
reach  heaven,  after  all.  I wish  that  singer 
had  not  come  in  and  interrupted  us  just  then. 
I should  hav'e  liked  to  have  heard  about  the 
way.  I fear  I shall  not  have  another  oppor- 
tunity of  asking  about  it,  for  the  lady  said 
something  about  soon  going  away.” 

So  thinking,  Boshonto  lost  herself  and  fell 
asleep.  In  her  sleep  she  dreamed  she  was 
taken  up  past  the  clouds,  through  a rainbow, 
past  the  sun,  past  the  stars,  and  that  through 
a great  gate  of  gold  she  entered  into  the 
beautiful  country.  She  saw  numbers  of  little 
children  playing  about  near  its  fountains  of 
living  water.  The  ground  was  carpeted  with 
flowers,  and  there  were  no  snakes  lurking 
amid  the  blossoms.  Each  little  child  was 
watched  by  a beautiful  angel.  As  she  was 


88 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


looking  at  them,  wondering  if  Hurisli  was 
there,  she  saw  a little  boy  just  the  age  of  her 
darling  run  up  to  her.  As  he  came  nearer 
she  saw  it  was  her  lost  boy;  she  clasped  him 
in  her  arms ; she  felt  his  little  arms  about 
her  neck,  his  kisses  on  her  lijis.  In  the  full- 
ness of  her  joy  she  awoke,  and,  behold,  it  was 
a dream.  But  the  stars  were  still  shining 
brightly,  and  the  light  of  them  brought  back 
the  thought  of  the  country  beyond. 

And  so  that  night  a chain  was  fastened  in 
heaven.  One  end  was  held,  as  it  were,  by 
the  little  boy  in  the  good  Shepherd’s  arms; 
the  other  had  been  caught  by  the  lonely 
mother  on  earth.  She  never  lost  her  hold. 
The  good  Shepherd  himself  drew  it  closer 
and  closer,  until  one  day,  earth  having  ap- 
jiroxi  mated  so  near  to  heaven,  Boshonto  step- 
ped across,  and  with  her  child  stood  in  the 
presence  of  God. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


A VISIT  TO  CALCUTTA. 

OME  time  after  this  the  pundit  told  his 


wife  that  lie  wished  them  all  to  go  to 
Calcutta  for  three  months,  and  had  made 
arrangements  for  their  going  on  the  Monday 
following.  What  a pleasure  for  the  poor 
women  ! They  could  not  expect  to  see  much, 
but  the  change  was  something  to  which  to 
look  forward.  They  might  possibly  make 
some  new  acquaintances  and  get  a sight 
of  tlie  great  city.  The  week  passed  by  very 
slowly,  and  glad  were  they  when  the  event- 
ful day  came.  They  wished  much  to  go 
by  rail,  but  the  men  objected  : it  would  be 
too  public,  they  said ; so  two  carriages  were 
obtained,  and  at  about  four  o’clock  in  the 
afternoon  they  set  off — the  pundit,  his  brother 
and  the  two  boys  in  one ; Kumari,  Prosonno, 
Boshonto,  Taramoni  and  little  Kamini  in 
8 * 89 


90 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


the  otlier.  Herani  was  left  behind  to  take 
care  of  the  house  during  their  absence. 

Very  pleasant  to  all  was  that  drive.  There 
was  a sense  of  exhilaration  in  going  to  the 
great  city  and  catching  even  a distant  gliinj)se 
of  its  splendors.  The  women  were  curious, 
and  kept  peeping  out  through  the  nearly- 
closed  doors.  They  saw  the  beautiful  cathe- 
dral, and  wondered  what  sort  of  worship  that 
of  the  Christians  could  be,  since  it  required 
such  a large  building.  Among  the  Hindoos 
no  spacious  temples  are  necessary.  The  wor- 
shipers never  congregate  to  unite  in  prayer 
and  praise;  they  go  singly,  each  with  his 
offering.  The  palace-like  buildings  of  Chow- 
ringhee  fascinated  them.  Each  carriage  as  it 
passed  by  was  peered  into,  that  they  might 
have  a sight  of  its  occupants.  On  and  on 
they  went,  and  at  length  the  princely  build- 
ings were  all  left  behind,  and  they  entered 
the  native  part  of  the  city.  The  house  was 
at  Jorasanko,  not  far  from  the  presidency 
college.  The  carriages  stopped  at  a doorway, 
then  servants  came  forward  holding  thick 
red  cloths  in  their  hands.  With  these  they 


A VISIT  TO  CALCUTTA. 


91 


formed  a curtain  on  each  side,  and  through 
the  passage  thus  made  the  women  passed  in. 

The  house  was  similar  to  that  at  Gopalpore, 
though  perhaps  newer  and  better  furnished. 
The  reception-room  had  better  furniture,  but 
the  women’s  apartments  were  the  same.  They 
liad,  however,  a staircase  by  which  they  could 
ascend  to  the  roof,  which  was  a great  acqui- 
sition. 

It  was  evening  when  they  arrived,  and 
everything  seemed  dreary.  The  little  girl 
was  troublesome,  and  there  was  much  to  be 
done.  At  length  the  evening  meal  was  ready ; 
the  men  partook  first : the  weary  women  had 
to  wait  until  their  lords  had  done.  Such  is 
the  barbarous  custom  of  India. 

The  next  day,  after  the  pundit  and  his 
brother  had  gone*  to  their  work,  there  came  a 
long  succession  of  women  with  wares  to  sell. 
First  there  was  the  bracelet  woman,  with  her 
bracelets  of  colored  glass  and  lac.  Little 
Kamini  was  gladdened  by  having  a dozen 
placed  on  each  of  her  little  fat  arms.  It  is 
true  they  soon  broke,  but  they  were  bright 
and  pretty  while  they  lasted.  Next  was  a 


92 


THE  DAWX  OF  LIGHT. 


woman  with  a basket  of  sweetmeats — confec- 
tions new  to  Gopalpore.  Then  the  female 
barber  appeared,  and  all  of  them  had  their 
feet  stained  crimson  with  alta.  After  this 
came  a woman  with  books;  she  had  heard 
that  the  ladies  of  the  household  were  “ learn- 
ed.” So  it  went  on  all  day,  and  each  new- 
comer had  a bit  of  gossip  to  retail.  The  day 
passed  very  rapidly,  and  in  the  evening,  when 
it  began  to  grow  dusk,  the  women  went  up  to 
the  roof ; from  thence  they  could  see  the  ma- 
jestic ships  lying  in  the  stream.  Often  and 
often  did  they  wish  they  could  go  on  board 
and  see  the  cabins  and  other  arrangements, 
but  the  wish  was  vain. 

Little  Kaniini  could  roam  at  will  among 
the  neighboring:  houses.  One  dav  she  rushed 
in  to  say  she  had  discovered  a school  for  little 
girls  like  herself.  They  were  all  learning  to 
read  and  write  and  sing  pretty  rhymes ; might 
she  go  too  ? Her  mother  gave  her  consent, 
and  having  dressed  her  in  her  pretty  little 
pink  saree,  told  her  to  go.  It  was  a relief  to 
have  her  out  of  the  house,  she  had  such  rest- 
less little  ways. 


A VISIT  TO  CALCUTTA. 


93 


The  child  had  now  always  plenty  to  tell  of 
what  she  had  learned  during  the  day,  and  of 
what  her  teacher  had  said  to  her.  Boshonto’s 
curiosity  was  raised,  and  she  told  her  to  beg 
the  teacher  to  come  in  for  a few  minutes.  She 
came,  a comely  natiye  woman,  and  of  course 
was  immediately  questioned  about  her  family, 
her  income,  etc.  Slie  answered  all  their  ques- 
tions good-humoredly,  and  then  in  her  turn 
made  some  inquiries.  She  was  told  of  Bo- 
shonto’s sorrow,  and  said, 

“ It  is  a dreadful  thing  to  lose  our  chil- 
dren.” 

“ Haye  any  of  yours  died  ?” 

“ Three ; two  of  them  when  little  infants, 
and  one,  a pretty  little  girl,  when  she  was 
.seven  years  old.  But  my  little  girl  wanted 
to  die.” 

“ Why  was  that?” 

“ She  said  she  wished  to  go  to  heayen  and 
be  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  She  was  ill 
a long  time,  and  used  often  to  say,  ‘ I want  to 
go  to  be  with  Jesus  Christ.  Heayen  is  such 
a beautiful  place,  and  my  Lord  who  died  for 
me  is  there.  I want  to  go.’  ” 


94 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT, 


‘‘How  wonderful  in  a cliild  to  speak  so  !” 
‘‘Yes,  and  I often  heard,  her  prayinj^  v.hon 
she  thought  she  was  alone.  8he  used  to  join 
lier  little  hands  together  and  say,  ‘O  Lord, 
wash  my  heart  in  thy  precious  blotjd.  For- 
give all  my  sins  and  let  me  go  to  heaven.’ 
Often  she  said  to  me,  ‘ Oh,  mother,  don’t  cry  ; 
I am  going  to  the  Lord  who  died  for  us.’  ” 

“ You  Christians  must  be  a strange  people. 
AVho  ever  heard  a child  amongst  us  speaking 
in  that  way  ? And  did  you  not  cry  when 
she  died  ?” 

“Yes,  I cried,  but  I was  comforted  too  in 
thinking  that  she  had  gone  to  heaven.” 
Boshonto  here  spoke : 

“ Do  you  think  you  will  see  your  child 
again?” 

“ Yes,  I know  I shall  when  I go  to 
heaven.” 

“ How  much  you  must  wish  to  go !” 

“ Sometimes  I do  want  to  go  very  much, 
but  I must  wait  until  my  Lord  calls  me.” 
Saying  this,  she  got  up  and  took  her  leave 
of  the  family. 

Long  did  Boshonto  think  about  all  this. 


A VISIT  TO  CALCUTTA. 


95 


Slie  wanted  to  read  the  Christians’  holy  book, 
but  did  not  know  how  to  get  a copy  without 
exciting  suspicion.  At  last  she  thought  she 
would  ask  Preinchand  ; he  might  be  able  to 
tell  her  how  to  get  one.  So  one  evening  she 
sat  down  by  him  and  asked  him  to  let  her 
look  over  his  books.  Most  of  them  were  in 
English,  and  he  condescendingly  informed  her 
of  what  they  were  about. 

‘^This  is  a book  on  geography,”  he  said. 

“ Geography  ! what  is  that  ?” 

“ A description  of  the  earth’s  surface.  By 
reading  this  book  you  would  know  how  many 
rivers  there  are  in  the  world,  how  many 
cities,  mountains  and  different  countries.” 

“ And  this  book,  Premchand  ?” 

“ This  is  on  mathematics.  Women  cannot 
understand  that  at  all.” 

“And  this  little  thick  book  with  small 
print?” 

“ That  the  English  call  a Bible.  It  is  their 
holy  book,  their  Shaster.” 

“ Have  you  read  it,  Premchand  ?” 

“ A'es ; I am  obliged  to  read  it,  in  order  to 
be  able  to  prepare  some  of  my  lessons.” 


96 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


“ What  sort  of  a book  is  it  ?” 

“ A very  good  sort  of  a book,  but  you  know 
I don’t  believe  in  it,  and  for  that  matter  I 
don’t  know  that  I believe  in  our  Shasters, 
either.” 

“ Oh,  Premchand,  don’t  say  such  a thing  !” 

“ Why  not?  I learn  many  things  at  school 
which  make  me  see  that  the  Shasters  are  not 
true.” 

“What  things?” 

“ Why,  when  an  eclipse  takes  place,  the 
Shasters  say  it  is  caused  by  some  giant  swal- 
lowing either  the  sun  or  the  moon.  That  is 
absurd.  When  the  moon  is  eclipsed,  it  is 
caused  by  the  shadow  of  the  earth  falling 
upon  it,  and  when  the  sun  is  eclipsed,  the 
moon  comes  between  the  earth  and  the  sun, 
and  that  causes  the  eclipse.  Then,  again,  the 
earth  is  round  like  an  orange,  but  the  Shas- 
ters say  it  is  flat.  And  there  are  numbers  of 
other  things  said  in  the  Shasters  which  are 
equally  absurd.” 

“ Is  there  anything  absurd  in  the  Chris- 
tian Shaster?” 

“ I have  not  seen  anything  yet.  I do  not 


A VISIT  TO  CALCUTTA. 


97 


believe  in  all  the  stories,  but  still  I must  say 
there  is  nothing  in  it  which  appears  impos- 
sible.” 

“ Premchand,  I should  like  to  see  this 
book.  Could  you  lend  me  your  copy?” 

“ l\Iine  is  in  English,  and  that  you  will  not 
be  able  to  read.” 

“ Is  it  not  translated  into  Bengali?” 

“ Oh  yes,  and  I dare  say  I could  easily  get 
you  one  if  you  gave  me  the  money.” 

‘‘How  much  would  it  cost?” 

“The  whole  Bible  would,  I think,  cost  a 
good  deal,  but  I could  get  you  a Xew  Testa- 
ment for  a few  annas.” 

“ Well,  here  is  an  eight-anna  bit.  I have 
had  it  a long  time,  and  intended  buying  seve- 
ral books  with  it,  but  I am  very  curious  to 
see  this  holy  book  of  the  Christians.  Do  try 
and  get  it  for  me.” 

“ Very  good  ; I will  see  what  I can  do  to- 
morrow, but  mind  you  have  something  nice 
for  me  when  I bring  you  the  book.” 

“ I will  not  forget.” 

Premchand  kept  his  word.  He  made  in- 
quiries among  his  fellow-students,  and  found 

9 


98 


THE  DAWN  or  LIGHT. 


one  who  had  a Bengali  New  Testament  and 
was  willing  to  sell  it  for  four  annas.  Prem- 
chand  paid  the  money,  and  coolly  told  Bo- 
shonto  that  he  had  paid  eight  annas  for  it,  so 
making  a profit  of  four  annas.  Besides  this, 
he  had  the  sweetmeats  Boshonto  had  pre- 
pared for  him. 

Very  glad  was  she  when  she  got  her  book. 
It  was  not  the  gladness  of  one  who  feels  that 
he  has  gained  possession  of  a guide  to  the  way 
of  life,  but  of  one  who  is  curious  and  has  ob- 
tained something  that  will  satisfy  his  curiosity. 
Perhaps  one  thing  which  rejoiced  her  was  the 
thought  that  the  book  might  possibly  tell  her 
something  about  the  heaven  to  which  her 
little  child  was  gone. 

That  very  night,  when  all  the  rest  were 
sitting  on  the  terrace  enjoying  the  moonlight, 
Boshonto  lighted  her  lamp  and  sat  down  in 
her  room  to  read.  The  first  chapter  of  St. 
Matthew  disheartened  her.  She  could  make 
nothing  of  the  list  of  names.  However  she 
went  on  bravely  till  she  came  to  the  verses 
telling  about  the  birth  of  Emmanuel,  God 
with  us.  “ This  is  wonderful,”  she  thought ; 


A VISIT  TO  CALCUTTA. 


99 


“ I suppose  this  is  Christ,  the  God  of  tlie 
Christians.”  She  read  on  about  the  star  and 
the  wise  men,  about  the  slaughter  of  the  little 
ones  and  the  mourning  of  their  mothers. 
‘‘Poor  women!  well,  they  had  cause  to  weep 
and  to  refuse  to  be  comforted.  Think  of 
having  their  little  children  killed  before  their 
eyes !”  This  set  her  thinking  about  her 
little  Hurish.  She  shut  the  book,  extin- 
guished her  lamp  and  went  out  to  enjoy  the 
beauty  of  the  night.  The  sight  of  the  moon 
and  stars  brought  back  to  her  mind  the 
country  which  is  very  far  off 

Rapidly  the  days  passed  by.  The  neigh- 
bors used  to  come  in  and  gossip,  and  little 
Kamini,  on  her  return  from  school,  had  al- 
ways much  to  tell  of  what  she  had  learned. 

“ What  an  old  woman  this  is  !”  her  mother 
said  one  day.  “ She  pretends  to  know  more 
than  we  do.  Just  listen  to  her.  Who  was 
the  first  man,  Kamini?” 

“ Adam.” 

“ And  his  wife  ?” 

“ Eve.” 

“ What  else  do  you  know  ?’ 


100 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


‘‘God  put  them  into  a garden  and  told 
them  tliey  might  eat  of  every  tree  but  one, 
and  if  they  ate  of  that  they  should  die.  Then 
Satan  came  like  a snake  and  told  them  to  eat 
of  it,  and  said  they  would  not  die.  And 
they  did  eat,  and  so  death  entered  into  the 
world.” 

“ What  a pity  they  ate  that  fruit !” 

Another  day  little  Kamini  said,  “ Oh, 
mother,  do  you  know  what  the  rainbow  is  ?” 

“ No,  old  woman  ; can  you  tell  ?” 

“ ITes;  I have  learned  about  it  to-day.  At 
one  time  all  the  people  in  the  world  became 
very  wicked,  so  God  said  he  must  destroy 
them.  But  there  was  one  good  man  who  had 
a wife  and  three  sous  and  their  three  Bows. 
God  said  he  would  not  destroy  them.  So  he 
told  him  to  make  a very  large  ship,  and  fill  it 
with  a great  many  beasts  and  birds,  and  to  go 
into  it  himself  with  his  family.  He  built  the 
ship  and  got  all  the  animals  in,  then  he  and 
his  family  went  in,  and  God  himself  shut  the 
door.  And  then  it  began  to  rain ; it  rained 
forty  days  and  forty  nights.  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  such  rain  ? And  the  water  rose  fif- 


A VISIT  TO  CALCUTTA. 


101 


teen  hands  above  the  mountains,  and  all  the 
men  and  animals  died,  excepting  those  in  the 
ship.  And  after  the  waters  subsided  the 
good  man  and  his  family  and  the  birds  and 
beasts  came  out  of  the  ship.  Aud  on  that 
day  God  put  the  rainbow  in  the  cloud  and 
told  Noah — that  was  the  good  man’s  name — 
that  it  was  for  a sign  that  the  earth  should 
never  again  be  destroyed  by  water.” 

“ AYell,  that  is  a good  thing.” 

“ But  oh,  mother,  the  teacher  told  us  that 
one  day  it  will  be  destroyed  by  a flood  of 
fire.” 

“ God  grant  it  may  not  be  in  our  time  !” 

Many  such  stories  were  told  by  the  child 
every  day  on  her  return  from  school,  but 
usually  they  awakened  little  curiosity.  Bo- 
shonto  sometimes  wondered  if  they  were  got 
out  of  the  Christians’  holv  book,  but  thoudit 
it  best  not  to  inquire.  Every  night,  however, 
she  read  her  Testament.  She  did  not  under- 
stand the  chaptei’s  about  the  baptism  and 
temptation  of  Christ,  but  some  of  the  others 
interested  her  very  much.  The  miracles  es- 
pecially fascinated  her;  she  Would  sometimes 


102 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


read  them  over  and  over  again.  “ If  tins 
Christ  had  only  been  in  India  when  my  little 
Ilurish  was  ill  and  died,  he  would  either  have 
healed  him  or  raised  him  from  the  dead,  and 
my  boy  would  now  be  with  me,”  was  her 
thought  when  reading  about  Jairus’  daughter. 
“ I should  like  to  know  where  this  Thakoor 
[God]  can  be  found,”  she  thought  another 
time.  “I  must  ask  Premchand  about  it.” 

So  one  evening  she  called  Premchand  aside, 
and  said  : 

“ I want  to  ask  you  something,  Premchand. 
I have  been  reading  the  book  you  bought  for 
me — at  least,  I have  read  a little.  I want  to 
know  who  Christ  is,  and  whether  he  lives  in 
England.  I think  he  must  be  there,  and 
must  give  the  English  such  extraordinary 
power.” 

Premchand  burst  out  laughing,  and  said  : 
“ Truly  women  are  fools  ! This  Christ  is  the 
God  of  the  Christians.  They  say  that  he  is 
now  in  heaven,  and  yet  that  he  is  everywhere 
i)resent.  Have  you  not  read  about  his 
Iu.alh?” 

“ No ; did  he  die,  Premchand  ?” 


A VISIT  TO  CALCUTTA. 


103 


“Yes;  he  was  put  to  death  on  a cross,  like 
a criminal.  Now  men  are  hanged,  but  then 
they  used  to  be  put  to  death  by  being  nailed 
to  a cross.” 

“ But  did  he  do  anything  wrong?” 

“ I don’t  see  that  he  did.  Even  the  judge 
said  there  was  no  fault  to  be  found  in  him.” 

“ Then  why  did  he  condemn  him  ?” 

“ That  I can  scarcely  say.  The  Jews  hated 
him,  and  the  judge  was  afraid  of  them,  so  he 
ordered  him  to  be  put  to  death.” 

“ But  he  was  always  so  kind ; I cannot 
understand  why  they  hated  him.” 

“ Neither  do  I.  But  he  said  himself  that 
he  came  into  the  world  to  die  for  the  sins  of 
all  the  people  in  the  world.  And  he  said,  too, 
that  he  died  voluntarily.” 

“ Well,  but  you  said  he  was  in  heaven.” 
“A"es;  three  days  after  his  death  he  rose 
from  the  dead,  and  after  being  with  his  disci- 
ples forty  days,  he  went  to  heaven.” 

“ A"ou  said  he  was  the  God  of  the  Chris- 
tians ; do  they  pray  to  him  ?” 

“ Yes,  and  tiiev  say  that  whoever  believes 
in  him  and  prays  to  him  will  go  to  heaven, 


104 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


and  that  there  is  no  way  of  being  saved  but 
through  him.” 

“ These  are  strange  stories.  Tell  me  more, 
Premchand.” 

“ Not  I.  I am  very  sleep)',  and  you  have 
got  them  all  in  that  book.  Read  for  your- 
self.” 

The  boy  settled  himself  to  sleep,  and  Bo- 
shonto  went  to  her  lamp  and  her  book. 
That  night  she  read  the  twenty-fourth  and 
twenty-fifth  chapters  of  St.  Matthew.  A feel- 
ing of  awe  came  over  her  as  she  read.  “ This 
Son  of  man  is  Christ.  He  will  come  one 
day  in  a chariot  of  clouds.  I think  I shall 
be  frightened  every  day  when  I see  the  clouds. 
Before  him  will  be  gathered  all  nations.  I 
wonder  if  I shall  be  there?  I wonder  if  he 
will  tell  me  to  go  away  from  him  to  hell,  or 
to  go  with  him  to  heaven  ? But  why  do  I 
think  such  things?  I am  not  a believer  in 
Christ ; my  gods  are  good  enough  for  me.” 

So  she  tried  to  forget,  but  often  in  the  vis- 
ions of  the  night  there  came  dreams  of  the 
Son  of  man  coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven. 

Their  stay  at  Calcutta  had  now  reached  an 


A VISIT  TO  CALCUTTA. 


105 


end,  Tliey  were  going  back  to  Goiialpore  in 
a day  or  two,  taking  little  Juggotarini  with 
them.  The  last  few  days  were  very  busy  and 
Boshonto  had  no  time  to  read.  Kamini  was 
greatly  distressed  to  leave  her  school,  hut  Bo- 
shonto and  Prosonno  both  promised  to  teach 
her,  and  for  this  purpose  they  provided  them- 
selves with  some  easy  hooks.  At  last  every- 
thing was  arranged,  and  they  set  off  on  their 
homeward  journey. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DOUBTS. 

XT  was  the  month  of  October,  when  the 
great  festival  of  the  goddess  Durga  is  cele- 
brated. The  pundit  and  his  brother  were  to 
be  at  home  for  ten  days,  and  owing  to  his 
prosperous  second  marriage,  the  festivities 
were  to  be  conducted  on  an  unusually  grand 
scale. 

A month  previous,  orders  had  been  given 
for  the  preparation  of  an  image  of  Durga. 
The  children  were  in  ecstasies  when  it  came 
home.  There  was  the  terrific  goddess,  ten- 
armed, each  arm  grasping  a weapon ; one  leg 
rested  on  a lion,  the  other  on  the  giant 
Mahisa,  whom  she  Avas  represented  as  having 
conquered,  and  into  whose  heart  a cobra,  held 
by  one  of  her  hands,  was  inserting  his  fangs. 
Beside  her  were  her  daughters,  Soroshoti  and 
106 


DOUBTS. 


107 


Luckhi,  and  beyond  them,  on  either  side, 
stood  Gunesh  with  his  elephant  head,  and 
Kartick  riding  on  a peacock.  Above  them 
all  rose  an  arch.  The  whole  image  was  very 
gay,  decked  with  abundance  of  gold  and  silver 
tinsel,  and  shining  in  all  the  colors  of  the 
rainbow.  It  was  placed  in  the  reception- 
room,  and  all  the  neighbors  crowded  in  to  see 
and  admire  it.  But  it  was  not  a thing  to  be 
worshiped  in  that  stage  of  its  life.  It  must 
first  be  animated  with  the  spirit  of  Durga. 

At  length  the  day  came.  A multitude  of 
ceremonies  were  performed,  and  then  the  pun- 
dit declared  that  the  spirit  of  Durga  had  de- 
scended into  the  clay  image,' and  that  hence- 
forth it  demanded  worship.  The  day  after 
the  animation  was  one  of  peculiar  solemnity. 
The  idol  was  bathed  and  sacrifices  were  offer- 
ed. On  this  day  all  widows  fast,  as  by  so 
doing  they  expect  a special  blessing.  Bo- 
shonto  fasted,  but  she  did  it  with  a very  sad 
he^rt.  She  remembered  doing  so  twice  during 
Hurish’s  lifetime  with  great  earnestness,  for 
it  was  said  that  she  would  thus  obtain  a 
blessing  for  him  as  well  as  for  herself.  But 


108 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


where  Avas  the  blessing?  Had  he  not  been 
taken  away  from  her,  passing  into  a state  of 
nothingness  and  gloom?  For  three  days  the 
pujas  AA'ent  on,  and  every  night  there  was 
feasting.  On  the  fourth  day,  after  a great 
round  of  adorations,  the  pundit  dismissed  the 
spirit  of  Durga,  entreating  her  to  return  next 
year  at  the  time  of  her  worship.  The  image 
was  then  taken  up,  the  women  wailing  in 
sorrow  at  her  departure,  and  was  carried 
away  all  the  six  miles  to  the  river,  and  there 
thrown  in.  The  pundit  went  also,  and  re- 
turned, bringing  with  him  some  of  the  river 
water,  with  Avhich  he  sprinkled  the  women 
of  the  household  and  the  people  who  were 
gathered  in  the  courtyard. 

A day  or  two  after  the  Durga  puja  was 
the  Luckhi  puja.  A basket  filled  with  paddy 
(rice)  and  wreathed  Avith  flowers  was  hung  up 
and  then  Avorshiped.  On  the  night  following 
the  day  of  the  puja,  all  the  family,  with  the 
exception  of  Boshonto,  had  made  arrange- 
ments to  sit  up,  in  the  expectation  that  at 
some  time  the  goddess  Avould  pass  over  the 
house  and  bless  all  Avho  Avere  awake.  Bo- 


DOUBTS. 


109 


shonto’s  heart  was  very  full  of  bitterness; 
she  said,  ‘‘What  prosperity  can  I look  for? 
I have  performed  pujas  innumerable,  but  I 
have  got  no  good.  The  gods  and  goddesses 
can  do  no  more  evil  to  me  than  they  have 
already  done.” 

After  the  evening  meal,  Premchand  went 
to  her  and  asked  if  she  would  read  to  him 
for  a little  while  from  the  Testament  he 
had  got  for  her.  She  was  surprised  at  his 
question,  and  thinking  it  was  a plan  to 
entrap  her  into  sitting  up,  after  her  express- 
ed determination  not  to  do  so,  she  said, 
impetuously, 

“ I will  not  watch  for  Ijuckhi.” 

“ But  every  one  is  going  to  sit  up,  Bo- 
shonto.” 

“ Premchand,  do  you  believe  Luckhi  will 
come  ?” 

“ Not  I,  indeed.  Do  you  think  I am  so 
foolish  as  to  believe  in  the  worship  of  a 
basket  of  paddy  ?” 

“ Then  why  are  you  going  to  watch  ?” 

“ I don’t  want  to  vex  my  mother ; she 
thinks  I shall  get  some  good,  and  I expect 
10 


110 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


to  be  very  tired,  so  do  read  a little,  Bosbonto,  ' 
to  while  away  the  time.”  1 

“Well,  I don’t  mind  reading  a little  while,  | 
but,  I tell  you,  I don’t  want  to  watch.” 

So  she  went  and  got  her  Xew  Testament, 
and  Prerachand  provided  himself  with  a copy 
of  Vishnu  Surma’s  Hitopadesha,  in  case 
troublesome  inquiries  might  be  made.  The 
chapter  was  the  twenty-sixth  of  Matthew. 
She  read  about  the  breaking  of  the  alabaster 
box  of  ointment,  and  her  comment  was : 

“ How  kind  Jesus  always  was  to  poor 
women  !” 

Then  she  read  about  the  Last  Supper,  and 
Premchand  remarked : “ I hear  that  the 
Christians,  from  time  to  time,  eat  bread  and 
drink  wine  in  this  way  in  memory  of  Jesus.” 

“ Have  you  ever  seen  it  done,  Premchand?” 

“ Xo ; how  could  I have  seen  it  ? I have 
never  been  into  any  of  their  places  of  wor- 
ship, but  I mean  to  go  some  day.” 

Then  came  the  story  of  Gethsemane  and 
its  awful  agony.  Boshonto  said,  “ I suppose 
Jesus  was  afraid  of  dying?” 

“ Not  a bit  of  it.  He  need  not  have  died. 


DOUBTS. 


in 


He  who  raised  others  from  the  dead,  could 
he  not  have  saved  himself?” 

“ Then  why  was  he  going  to  die,  Prem- 
chand  ?” 

“ He  was  goina:  to  die  in  order  to  save 
others,  and  at  that  time  he  was  bearing  the 
2)unishment  of  the  sins  of  the  world.” 

“ You  know  a great  deal,  Premchand  !” 
“Of  course;  I have  been  to  school.  But 
go  on.” 

She  read  on  about  the  coming  of  Judas, 
the  taking  of  Jesus,  the  mock  trial,  the  de- 
nial of  Peter.  When  she  came  to  the  end  of 
the  chapter,  Premchand  said  : 

“ Now  let  me  read.” 

So  he  took  it  up  and  read  all  about  the 
death  of  Christ,  interspersing  his  own  ex- 
planations. When  he  finished,  Boshonto 
said : 

“ And  he  died  for  us,  you  say  ?” 

“ So  the  Bible  says ; so  Christians  say.” 

“ But  how  did  his  dying  do  us  any  good?” 
“ AVhy,  you  see  all  men  are  sinners.  God 
had  said  that  if  men  sinned  they  should  be 
punished  and  go  to  hell.  Jesus  lovmd  and 


112 


THE  DAWN  OP  LIGHT. 


pitied  men,  so  he  said  lie  would  come  to 
earth  as  a man,  would  suffer  the  punishment 
of  their  sin,  and  then,  if  any  believed  on  him, 
they  should  be  saved.” 

“ But  I don’t  understand.  How  could  the 
death  of  one  atone  for  the  sins  of  manyf’ 

“ Because  that  One  was  greater  than  the 
many.  Jesus,  they  saj',  was  God  as  well  as 
man.” 

“ Then  is  that  Avhy  in  the  first  chapter  of 
this  book  he  is  called  Immanuel,  or  God 
with  us  ?” 

“ Yes,  I think  so.  Does  not  all  this  seem 
incomprehensible  to  you,  Boshonto?” 

“ It  seems  very  wonderful,  but  I don’t 
think  it  impossible,  for  in  our  own  Shasters 
we  have  stories  of  tlie  gods  assuming  the 
forms  of  men.  But  then  Jesus  was  always 
so  good  and  kind ; none  of  our  gods  were  like 
him.  I want  to  know  what  happened  after 
his  death.  If  you  are  not  tired,  would  you 
read  me  a little  more?” 

So  he  read  on  about  the  glorious  resurrec- 
tion, about  the  Lord’s  appearances  to  the 
women  and  to  the  apostles,  and  about  the 


DOUBTS. 


113 


last  command  given  to  them  by  Jesus.  Then 
Premchand  said  : 

“ The  missionaries  say  that  it  is  in  obedi- 
ence to  this  command  that  they  have  come 
from  England  to  tell  us  about  Jesus.” 

“ What  does  baptism  mean  ?” 

“ It  is  something — I don’t  quite  know  what 
— which  is  done  when  any  one  becomes  a 
Christian.  But  I will  go  away  now,”  he 
added. 

“ Very  well,”  said  Boshonto,  dreamily,  and 
extinguishing  her  light,  she  retired  to  rest. 
AVhen  Pi'emchand  joined  the  others,  he  was 
asked  what  he  had  been  doing. 

“ Reading  the  Hitopadesha  with  Boshonto,” 
was  his  reply  as  he  produced  his  book. 

“ What  a boy  that  is  for  books  !”  said  his 
mother,  proudly,  and  the  pundit  gave  him 
his  blessing. 

Boshonto  lay  dovm,  but  she  could  not 
sleep.  “ How  different  the  Christian  religion 
is  from  ours  !”  she  thought.  “ Here  we  have 
been  keeping  the  Durga  puja.  I Avonder 
what  Durga  ever  did  for  us  ? She  killed  the 
giant  Mahisa,  it  is  true,  but  what  have  I to 
10  * 


114 


THE  DAWN  OP  LIGHT. 


do  with  that?  It  has  done  me  no  good. 
And  soon  the  Kali  puja  will  be  coming,  but 
what  did  Kali*  ever  do  for  me?  I am  in- 
clined to  think  with  Premchand  that  our  re- 
ligion is  full  of  falsehoods.  But  how  very 
beautiful  is  the  character  of  Jesus  ! He  Avas 
always  so  gentle,  so  loving!  He  never  got 
angry.  Think  of  his  appearing  to  those 
women  after  he  rose,  and  S}>eaking  to  them 
so  kindly  ! And  just  think  of  his  dying — 
dying,  too,  like  a criminal,  only  to  save  us ! 
I Avish  the  English  lady  had  not  gone  away. 
I should  so  much  like  to  ask  her  some  ques- 
tions.” 

Thinking  ov'er  these  and  other  thoughts, 
she  fell  asleep.  Premchand,  during  his 
vigils,  had  his  thoughts  too.  A great  dis- 
gust and  Aveariness  Avere  groAving  up  in  his 
mind  against  all  the  ceremonies  of  Hindoo- 
ism,  and  he  Avas  longing  to  shake  himself 
free  from  them. 

The  other  festivals  came  on.  The  Kali 
puja  was  the  first.  Hideous  beyond  expres- 

* Often  written  Karlee,  the  cruel  and  blood-loving 
goddess. 


DOUBTS. 


115 


sion  was  the  image  of  the  black,  four-armed 
goddess;  her  neck  encircled  with  a necklet 
of  skulls,  her  waist  clasped  with  a zone  of 
dead  hands,  two  corpses  hanging  as  car-rings 
from  her  ears,  her  red  tongue  lolling  out  and 
her  feet  upon  her  husband’s  body.  Terrible 
and  bloody  as  the  goddess  were  tlie  rites  ])cr- 
formed  in  her  honor.  The  worship  of  Kar- 
tick,  the  god  of  war,  came  next  in  order,  and 
tlien  the  Ras  Jattra,  the  festival  commemora- 
tive of  the  vile  loves  of  Krishna.  Boshouto 
was  in  the  midst  of  these  things  all  day ; in 
the  evening  she  sat  alone  and  read  about 
Jesus.  Many  doubts  entered  her  mind. 
Sometimes  she  seareely  dared  to  entertain 
them.  “ What  have  I,  a woman,  to  do  with 
such  thoughts?  I have  only  to  do  as  my 
forefathers  did.”  Then  again  she  would  read 
about  some  loving  act  of  Jesus,  and  would 
contrast  him  with  what  she  knew  of  Krishna. 
“ How  pure,  how  holy,  how  loving,  Jesus 
Christ  was ! I feel  almost  afraid  to  name 
him  with  Krishna,  who  certainly  was  not 
holy.” 

Once  she  said  to  herself : “ I wish  I had 


116 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


been  born  a Christian.  I cannot  help  think- 
ing I should  have  been  happier  then  than  I 
am  now.  Now  I don’t  know  what  to  believe. 
Here  is  the  jiundit;  he  is  so  wise  and  good, 
yet  he  believes  in  all  these  gods.  I have  be- 
lieved in  them  all  my  life,  but  I confess  I 
have  never  got  any  good  from  them.  And 
now  my  mind  is  all  unsettled.  I perform 
my  pujas  with  only  half  a heart,  and  I am 
always  thinking  Durga  and  Luckhi  and 
Mahadeb,  and  the  rest  of  them,  cannot  hear 
me  at  all.  I think  I will  give  up  reading 
the  Christians’  holy  book  for  a few  days.” 
And  so  for  some  time  the  book  was  laid  aside. 
But  one  Sunday  night  Premchand  came  to 
her  again,  and  asked  her  if  she  was  going  to 
read. 

“ No,”  she  said,  sulkily. 

“Why  not?” 

“I  feel  so  disturbed  and  troubled  in  mind ; 
I don’t  know  what  to  believe.” 

“ Have  you  finished  the  book  ?” 

“ Oh  no ; not  yet.” 

“ Well,  bring  it.  It  is  cold  to-night,  and  I 
don’t  want  to  go  out.  The  rest  are  all  busy.” 


DOUBTS. 


117 


She  yielded,  and  brouglit  her  Testament, 
and  they  sat  down  by  the  lamp,  Boshonto 
had  by  this  time  read  through  the  Gospels  of 
Mark  and  Luke,  and  part  of  John.  Her 
mark  was  at  the  fourteenth  of  St.  John. 
Premchand  opened  at  the  place  and  began  to 
read  : 

“ Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled : ye  be- 
lieve in  God,  believe  also  in  me.’’ 

“Oh,  Premchand,”  broke  in  Boshonto,  “is 
he  saying  that  to  me  ?” 

“ Don’t  interrupt,”  was  his  ungracious  an- 
swer, though  the  same  question  was  iu  his 
own  heart. 

“In  my  Father’s  house  are  many  mansions: 
if  it  were  not  so,  I would  have  told  you.  I 
go  to  prepare  a place  for  you.” 

“ What  did  he  mean  by  his  Father’s  house, 
Premchand  ?” 

“ Heaven,  I suppose.” 

“ And  he  says  he  has  gone  to  prepare  rooms 
for  us  there?” 

“ Yes ; but  let  me  go  on.” 

“ And  if  I go  and  prepare  a place  for  you, 
I will  come  again,  and  receive  you  unto 


118 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


myself ; that  where  I am,  there  ye  may  be 
also.” 

“ Wait  a moment,  PremchanJ : how  will 
he  come  again  ? On  a chariot  of  clouds  ?” 

“ I have  heard  that  this  coming  means  the 
hour  of  death.  And  I have  heard  too  that 
Christians  are  not  afraid  to  die.” 

“Not  afraid  to  die?  That  is  astonishing! 
However,  I must  say  that  if  they  believe 
that  at  death  they  will  go  to  Christ  and  be 
with  him  for  ever  in  heaven,  I don’t  wonder. 
Go  on.” 

“ And  whither  I go  ye  know,  and  the  way 
ye  know.  Thomas  saith  unto  him.  Lord,  we 
know  not  whither  thou  goest ; and  how  can 
we  know  the  way  ? Jesus  saith  unto  him,  I 
am  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life : no  man 
cometh  unto  the  Father,  but  by  me.” 

“ I was  going  to  ask  the  same  question 
that  Thomas  asked.  So  Jesus  is  the  way  to 
heaven.  I wonder  what  that  means  ?” 

“ How  foolish  you  are ! It  just  means 
that  it  is  only  by  believing  in  him  Ave  can  get 
to  heaven.” 

Thus  the  reading  went  on.  When  he  read 


DOUBTS. 


119 


those  blessed  words ; “ 1 will  not  leave  you 
eomfortless : I will  come  to  you/’ Boshonto 
exclaimed : 

“ I am  comfortless.  If  I were  a Christian, 
I should  not  be  so.” 

The  promise  of  the  Holy  Spirit  elicited 
many  questions.  Does  he  come  and  stay 
with  Christians?  Does  he  teach  them? 
How  does  he  teach  them  ? Do  they  hear  a 
voice  ? Do  they  see  any  visible  appearance  ? 
To  all  these  questions  Premchand  had  to  re- 
ply that  he  did  not  know;  perhaps  the  Chris- 
tians themselves  could  tell. 

They  had  not  time  to  read  more  than  this 
chapter,  for  the  pundit  called  his  son  away, 
some  friends  having  come  to  have  a little 
gossip.  And  Boshonto  felt  she  had  enough 
to  think  about. 

Four  months  had  passed  since  their  return 
from  Calcutta.  Many  doubts  had  taken  root 
in  Boshonto’s  heart.  Premchand  had  his 
doubts  too,  more  than  he  had  ever  let  Bo- 
shonto suspect.  But  outwardly  all  was  going 
on  as  usual.  When  the  mountain  looks  the 
greenest,  the  fire  may  be  working  within. 


CHAPTER  X. 


PROGRESS, 


HE  months  passed  by,  to  some  rapidly, 


to  others  slowly.  Again  the  Indian 
spring  had  come  and  gone;  the  voice  of  the 
kokil  had  been  heard  ; the  trees  had  budded 
and  renewed  their  glorious  beauty.  The  hot 
weather  succeeded.  The  days  were  very  hot, 
but  then  the  nights  were  glorious.  There 
was  little  reading  at  night  during  these  hot 
months.  The  strong  south  wind  put  out  the 
lamps;  besides,  it  was  such  a pleasure  to  sit 
out  on  the  terrace,  enjoying  the  luxury  of 
that  delicious  wind.  Every  evening,  at  set 
of  sun,  it  came  up  from  the  south,  blowing 
from  the  sea,  bringing  with  it  refreshing  and 
reviving.  And  then  the  cloudless  moonlight 
and  starlight  nights  I It  was  quite  a joy  to 
watch  the  heavens. 

One  night,  though,  there  was  a terrible 


120 


PROGRESS. 


121 


storm.  It  was  a Sunday  evening,  and  the 
men  were  at  home.  A huge  bank  of  dark 
clouds  rose  up  in  the  north-west,  and  in  an 
incredibly  short  time  overspread  the  sky. 
AVhen  the  wind  began  to  blow,  it  brought 
clouds  of  dust,  but  in  a few  minutes  the  wind 
was  succeeded  by  rain,  which  fell  in  torrents. 
The  litrhtning;  and  thunder  were  terrific. 
The  women  huddled  together  in  one  of  the 
inner  rooms,  and  the  men  even  came  and 
joined  them.  At  every  flash  the  room  was 
lighted  up  with  a blue  glare,  and  immediately 
after  the  light  came  the  fearful  thunder. 

After  it  was  all  over,  Boshonto  went  out 
upon  the  terrace,  and  Premchand  followed. 
She  asked  Premchand  what  caused  the  thun- 
der. 

He  said : 

“ Don’t  we  believe  that  the  gods  and  god- 
desses are  playing  at  ball  in  the  sky  ?” 

‘‘  Yes ; that  is  what  we  say,  Premchand, 
but  do  you  think  so  ?” 

“ Not  I.  I have  read  the  true  reason.” 

“ What  is  it  ?” 

“I  don’t  think  you  will  understand  it,  but 
11 


122 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


I will  tell  you.  There  is  a fluid  which  seems 
to  be  everywhere;  it  is  called  the  electric 
fluid.  It  is  in  us,  it  is  in  the  earth,  it  is  in 
the  clouds,  it  is  everywhere.  But  if  there  is 
more  of  it  in  one  place  than  another,  it  passes 
from  that  place  to  the  other.  The  lightning 
is  this  fluid  made  visible.  Sometimes  it 
passes  from  one  cloud  to  another,  and  some- 
times it  goes  from  the  clouds  to  the  earth. 
As  it  thus  passes  from  one  cloud  to  another, 
or  goes  from  the  clouds  to  the  earth,  the  at- 
mosphere is  rent  by  it,  and  the  concussion  of 
the  air  produces  the  sound  we  call  thunder. 
Now  do  you  understand?” 

“ Partly.  Oh,  Premchaiid,  how  many 
things  you  know  that  I don’t  I” 

“ Of  course;  you  have  not  been  to  school.” 
Did  you  feel  frightened,  Premchand  ?” 

“ Why  should  I have  been  frightened,  you 
goose  ?” 

“Well,  I was.  Don’t  you  remember  tell- 
ing me  only  yesterday  how  two  men  were 
killed  by  the  lightning  striking  a house  in 
Calcutta?  I could  not  help  thinking  that  I 
might  be  killed,  and  then  I felt  so  terrified.” 


TROGRESS. 


123 


‘‘  Why  r 

‘‘Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Premehand, 
I doubt  very  much  if  our  religion  is  true.  I 
heard  all  the  rest  calling  out,  Ram ! Ram ! 
and  I thought  perhaps  there  is  no  such  being, 
and,  if  not,  of  course  he  cannot  save.” 

“ Then  did  you  call  on  the  God  of  the 
Christians,  on  Jesus  Christ?” 

“ Oh  no,  no,  Premehand ! how  could  I 
do  that?  I don’t  believe  in  him.  I feel  as 
if  I were  on  the  river  in  a little  boat  all 
alone  in  the  midst  of  a storm.  I don’t  know 
to  whom  to  look  to  save  me.  Oh,  Premehand, 
I feel  as  if  my  boat  will  go  down  and  I 
shall  be  drowned !” 

“ Have  you  read  any  of  the  Testament 
lately  ?” 

“ No ; I am  almost  afraid  to  touch  it.  I 
sometimes  feel  sorry  I asked  you  to  get  it 
for  me,  for  it  has  so  unsettled  my  mind. 
What  do  you  think  I ought  to  do?” 

“ Will  you  giv'e  me  the  Testament?” 

“ No ; I think  not.  I should  like  to  read 
it  through.” 

“ Well,  you  must  do  as  you  please.” 


124 


THE  DAWN  OF  EIGHT. 


With  this  the  conversation  ended,  and 
Premchand  and  Boshonto  went  their  differ- 
ent ways. 

After  this  the  rainy  season  set  in,  with  its 
delightful  showers,  its  brilliant  skies  and 
fragrant  scents.  There  was  a bokiil  tree 
near  the  tank  belonging  to  the  house,  ami 
every  night  it  absolutely  laded  the  air  with 
fragrance.  It  was  one  of  little  Kamini’s 
pleasures  to  go  out  every  morning  to  gather 
the  fallen  flowers  and  string  them  into 
Avi’eaths  to  wear  during  the  day.  At  this 
season  the  bushes  of  small  jessamine  planted 
round  the  tank  were  also  in  flower. 

Tlie  strong  south  wind  having  ceased,  Bo- 
shonto was  able  to  read  again  at  night,  and 
went  on  with  her  Testament  in  earnest. 
Kight  after  night  slie  read  the  record  of  the 
doings  of  the  apostles  with  wonderment. 
‘‘  These  apostles,”  she  thought,  ‘‘  were  like 
the  missionaries  we  have  in  India.  They 
W'ent  about  everywhere  preaching  the  true 
God  and  Jesus  Christ.  I sometimes  wish  I 
were  not  one  of  tlie  respectable  class.  If  I 
were  only  like  Lydia,  a seller  of  purple,  why 


PROG  HESS. 


125 


I might  go  to  Calcutta  and  hear  them  preaeh- 
ins:  some  dav.  But,  alas ! I eaii  never  hear 
them,  shut  up  as  I am  !” 

Ever  since  they  had  returned  from  Calcut- 
ta, Prionath  had  been  attending  the  mission 
school  with  Premchand,  going  every  Monday 
and  returning  every  Saturday.  He  made 
tolerable  progress,  though  he  was  too  full  of 
fun  to  apply  himself  steadily  like  Premchand. 
He  was  a bright  boy,  and  always  enlivened 
the  house,  constantly  learning  some  new  song, 
and  shouting  it  out  for  the  gratification  of  his 
mother  and  aunts.  One  Saturday  evening 
they  were  all  sitting  out  in  the  bright  moon- 
light. The  gossip  of  the  week  had  been 
talked  over,  and  then  Kumari  said  : 

“ AVhat  new  song  have  you  learnt,  Prio- 
nath?” 

“ This  time  I have  learnt  a Christian  song. 
I heard  two  of  the  boys  singing  it,  and  I liked 
it  so  much  that  I gave  them  a few  marbles 
for  teaching  it  me.” 

Let  us  hear  it.” 

And  the  boy,  regardless  of  the  holy  words 
he  was  singing,  sang  thus  : 


126 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


Jesus  is  the  true  riclies! 

Then  trust  in  liitn,  my  soul. 

The  Lord  of  all,  he  came  from  heaven  to  earth,* 

For  thy  sake,  O my  soul ! 

And  took  on  him  thy  form  and  human  birth. 

What  sorrows  bore  he  in  Gethsemane, 

For  thy  sins,  O my  soul ! 

Upon  the  cro.ss  what  nameless  agony! 

The  Lord,  he  is  the  treasure  true  of  hope ! 

Oh  seek  him  then,  my  soul; 

The  light  of  life ! wilt  thou  in  darkness  grope? 

Who  trusts  in  Christ  finds  in  him  wealth  for  ever! 

Trust  thou,  and  find,  O soul ! 

The  jewel  priceless,  riches  wasting  never  ! 

Sinful  art  thou  ? Yet  humbly  seek  his  grace. 

Thy  Saviour,  0 my  soul ! 

Himself  will  crown  thee — thou  shalt  see  his  face! 

Jesus  is  the  true  riches  ! 

Then  trust  in  him,  my  soul. 

As  the  sweet  hymn  went  on,  sung  very  im- 
perfectly indeed,  Boshonto  listened  eagerly, 
and  the  words  of  the  refrain  .«ank  deep  into 
her  mind.  “ So  Jesus  is  the  true  riches,”  she 
thought.  “If  I can  only  get  him,  I shall  be 


PROGRESS. 


127 


happy.  Somehow  these  Christians  have  very 
sweet  and  lioly  words  among  them.  How 
different  this  song  is  from  many  that  Prio- 
nath  siims ! I wish  I eould  learn  it.”  And 

o 

the  next  day  she  bribed  Prionath  to  teach  her 
a verse  or  two.  By  repeated  bribings  she 
managed  in  time  to  learn  the  whole,  and  then 
she  would  often  sit  out  on  the  terrace  at  night 
a little  apart  from  the  others  crooning  to 
herself  the  earnest  verses.  Obtaining  “a 
crown”  in  heaven  seemed  a very  desirable 
thing,  and  many  longings  and  wishes  arose 
in  her  heart. 

Day  after  day  the  light  grew  brighter  and 
brighter.  The  thick  darkness  Avhich  had 
covered  her  mind  began  to  disperse.  Still, 
as  yet  she  only  saw  men  as  trees  walking. 
But  as  nothing  can  hinder  the  light  of  day 
from  pouring  its  beauty  over  the  Avhole  earth, 
so,  blessed  be  God ! nothing  can  hinder  the 
light  of  his  gospel,  when  once  it  begins  to 
rise,  from  filling  the  human  heart. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  CHAIN  DEAWN  CLOSER. 

BOUT  the  end  of  Sejitember  a severe 


attack  of  illness  seized  Boslionto.  For 
some  weeks  she  was  quite  prostrated,  and  life 
seemed  doubtful.  She  had  every  care  and 
attention  from  Kumari  and  Prosonno,  yet 
when  the  women  from  the  neishboring:  houses 
used  to  come  in  to  inquire  about  her,  they 
could  not  helj)  sympathizing  with  them  when 
they  said:  “Poor  thing!  it  will  be  well  for 
her  when  she  dies ! A widow’s  life  is  a dread- 
ful thing.”  Boshonto  often  heard  these  re- 
marks, and  she  used  to  lie  and  wmnder  if  it 
would  really  be  better  for  her  to  die. 

A short  time  before  she  would  have  wished 
for  death,  but  now  she  thought  she  would 
like  to  live  till  she  had  .settled  in  her  oavu 
mind  the  truth  of  either  Christianity  or  Hin- 


128 


THE  CHAIN  HRAAVN  CLOSER. 


129 


dooism.  Perhaps  it  was  this  Avish  to  live 
that  enabled  her  to  rally.  Life  in  the  con- 
test at  length  gained  the  victory,  but  it  was 
lono;  before  streno;th  came.  She  sometimes 
got  out  her  books,  but  often  she  could  do 
nothing  but  look  at  the  covers.  Little  Kam- 
ini  would  occasionally  read  to  her  some  easy 
story  out  of  her  little  books,  and  would  laugh 
merrily  at  what  she  read,  but  though  Boshon- 
to  smiled  on  the  little  girl,  she  felt  no  inter- 
est in  her  little  stories.  Prosonno  once  sug- 
gested reading  Sacontola,  but  she  did  not  care 
for  it.  She  w'ould  have  liked  to  hear  some- 
thing about  Christ,  but  she  did  not  dare  ask 
Prosonno  to  read  to  her  from  the  New  Testa- 
ment, and  she  could  not  read  for  herself,  as 
the  small  print  hurt  her  weakened  eyes.  So 
day  after  day  she  lay  in  silence,  thinking, 
Avondering. 

Her  little  Hurish  Avas  much  in  her  thoughts. 
His  pretty  little  Avays  and  words  recurred  to 
her  mind,  and  she  thought : “ What  Avould  I 
not  give  for  the  hope  of  seeing  my  boy  again? 
If  I Avere  a Christian,  I should  have  that  hope, 
but  noAv  all  is  darkness  and  dreariness.” 


130 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


Then  she  tliought  again  : “ I wish  I eoukl 
find  out  the  places  in  tlie  Bible  which  tell 
about  heaven.  When  Prenichaml  conies,  I 
must  ask  him.”  Premchand  had  not  been 
home  for  some  weeks ; he  said  the  examina- 
tion was  approaching,  and  he  must  study 
hard,  and  could  not  manage  to  give  up  his 
Saturdays  and  Sundays. 

One  Saturday  afternoon,  however,  when 
Boshonto  was  considerably  better,  he  came 
with  his  father  and  brother  and  uncle.  After 
his  mother  had  looked  at  him,  studying  every 
look  and  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  over- 
study made  him  thin  and  pale,  and  after  he 
had  been  petted  to  her  heart’s  content,  he 
asked  how  Boshonto  was.  “ She  is  better 
now,  though  very  weak,”  said  his  mother. 
“I  think  she  is  lying  in  the  ujiper  verandah; 
you  had  better  go  and  see  her  while  I look 
after  cooking  you  something  very  nice,  my 
boy.”  Then  addressing  Prosonno,  she  added : 
“Choto  Bow,  come  and  help  me;  that  stupid 
Herani  will  be  sure  to  spoil  the  curry  and 
cakes.” 

Premchand  went  up  stairs.  He  was  shocked 


I 


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Premchand  and  Kaminee. 


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THE  CHAIN  DRAWN  CLOSER. 


131 


to  see  the  alteration  in  Boshonto,  and  sitting 
down  near  her,  gently  asked  how  she  was. 
She  told  him,  and  then  said, 

“ I am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Premchand. 
You  are  always  so  kind  to  me.  How  have 
your  studies  been  getting  on?  Do  you  think 
you  will  pass  the  examination?” 

“ I hope  so.  I have  been  working  very 
hard.  I suppose  you  have  read  nothing 
lately?” 

“ No ; I have  been  too  weak  to  see  well. 
Oil,  Premchand,  do  you  know  in  what  part 
of  the  New  Testament  I could  find  a desci’ip- 
tion  of  heaven  ? When  I was  so  ill,  I thought 
I should  die,  and  I wished  so  to  know  some- 
thing about  heaven.  I have  been  very  mis- 
erable, Premchand.” 

“ Give  me  the  Testament.” 

“ Here  it  is,  under  my  pillow.  When  I 
heard  your  voice  down  stairs,  I crept  away 
and  managed  to  get  it  from  my  hiding-place.” 
Premchand  opened  it  toward  the  end,  turned 
down  two  or  three  of  the  pages  hastily,  and 
said : 

“ I have  marked  the  places  for  you.” 


132 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


Then  leaning  over  the  verandah  balustrade, 
he  looked  down  into  the  court-yard.  Seeing 
them  all  busy,  he  resumed  his  jilace  by  her 
side,  and  ojiening  at  the  seventh  cha])ter  of 
the  book  of  the  Revelation,  began  to  read 
those  glorious  words,  interspersing  sundry 
little  comments  by  way  of  explanation.  He 
had  just  time  to  finish  when  voices  were 
heard  approaching,  and  the  book  was  restored 
to  its  place  under  her  pillow.  Kumari,  hav- 
ing arranged  everything,  had  come  up  with 
Kamini  to  have  some  more  talk  Avith  her 
darling.  Prosonno  speedily  joined  them,  and 
Premchand  had  soon  enough  to  do  answering 
all  their  questions. 

AVhen  the  time  came  for  the  evening  meal, 
they  all  went  down  stairs,  and  Boshonto  was 
left  alone.  She  had  not  yet  eaten  rice,  but 
lived  simply  on  bread  and  sugar.  She  took 
adv^antage  of  her  opportunity,  lighted  her 
lamp  and  turned  to  one  of  the  marks.  Again 
she  read  to  herself  the  wonderful  Avords ; 

“After  this  I beheld,  and  lo,  a great 
multitude,  which  no  man  could  number,  of 
all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people,  and 


THE  CHAIN  DRAWN  CLOSER. 


133 


tongues,  stood  before  the  throne,  and  before 
tlie  Lamb,  clothed  with  white  robes,  and 
j>alins  in  their  hands;  and  cried  with  a loud 
voice,  saying.  Salvation  to  our  God  who  sit- 
teth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb. 
And  all  the  angels  stood  round  about  the 
throne,  and  about  the  elders  and  the  four 
beasts,  and  fell  before  the  throne  on  their 
faces,  and  worshiped  God,  saying,  Amen : 
Blessing,  and  glory,  and  wisdom,  and  thanks- 
giving, and  honor,  and  power,  and  might,  be 
unto  our  God  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen. 
And  one  of  the  elders  answered,  saying  unto 
me.  What  are  these  which  are  arrayed  in 
white  robes?  and  whence  came  they?  And 
I said  unto  him,  Sir,  thou  knowest.  And  he 
said  to  me.  These  are  they  which  came  out  of 
great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes, 
and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb.  Therefore  are  they  before  the  throne 
of  God,  and  serve  him  day  and  night  in  his 
temple ; and  he  that  sitteth  on  the  throne 
shall  dwell  among  them.  They  shall  hunger 
no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more;  neither 
shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat. 

12 


134 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


For  the  Lamb  wliicli  is  in  the  midst  of  the 
throne  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them 
unto  living  fountains  of  waters:  and  God 
shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes.” 
She  was  tired,  and  elosed  the  book,  putting 
it  away  and  extinguishing  the  lamp.  She 
lay  down  again  on  her  mat,  and  thought  of 
the  white  raiment,  the  crowns,  the  palms  and 
the  glorious  song  of  praise.  She  thought,  too, 
of  the  loving  Lamb  feeding  them,  and  of  God 
wiping  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes.  “ Well, 
one  thing  is  certain,  even  if  Christianity  is 
not  true,  the  Christians  are  better  olf  than  we 
are,  they  are  so  much  happier.  No  wonder 
they  don’t  fear  to  die ! no  wonder  they  often- 
times desire  to  go,  since  they  have  the  hope 
of  such  a beautiful  country  before  them ! 
And  so  they  say  my  boy  is  there  I I wonder 
how  he  looks  in  the  white  raiment,  with  the 
crown  on  his  brow  and  the  palm  branch  in 
his  hand  ? His  voice  was  such  a sweet  one. 
I suppose  it  is  heard  in  that  song,  ‘ Salvation 
to  our  God,  who  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and 
unto  the  Lamb.’  He  used  sometimes  to  cry 
when  with  me.  He  does  not  cry  now,  for 


THE  CHAIN  DRAWN  CLOSER. 


135 


God  has  wiped  away  all  his  tears.  He  has 
no  more  hunger  nor  thirst,  and  in  heaven 
there  is  no  terrible  scorching  heat,  such  as  we 
have  here  in  the  hot  weather.  Oh,  my  little 
bird,  if  I only  believed  all  this  as  the  Chris- 
tians do,  I don’t  think  I would  cry  any  more 
for  you,  nor  wish  to  have  you  in  my  arms 
again.” 

And  so  she  went  on  thinking  till  she  fell 
asleep. 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath.  Prem- 
chand  watched  his  opportunity,  and  managed 
to  see  her  alone.  He  asked  for  her  New 
Testament,  and  read  to  her  pai’ts  of  the  twen- 
ty-first and  twenty-second  chapters  of  the 
Pevelation  of  St.  John  : 

“And  (the  angel)  carried  me  away  in  the 
spirit  to  a great  and  high  mountain,  and 
showed  me  that  great  city,  the  holy  Jerusa- 
lem, descending  out  of  heaven  from  God, 
having  the  glory  of  God : and  her  light  was 
like  unto  a stone  most  precious,  even  like 
a jasper  stone,  clear  as  crystal ; aud  had  a 
wall  great  and  high,  and  had  twelve  gates, 
and  at  the  gates  twelve  angels,  and  names 


136 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


written  thereon,  which  are  the  names  of  the 
twelve  tribes  of  the  children  of  Israel ; on 
the  east  three  gates,  on  the  north  three  gates, 
on  the  south  three  gates,  and  on  the  west  three 
gates.  And  the  wall  of  the  city  had  twelve 
foundations,  and  in  them  the  names  of  the 
twelve  apostles  of  the  Lamb.  . . . And  the 
twelve  gates  were  twelve  pearls ; every  several 
gate  was  of  one  pearl : and  the  street  of  the 
city  was  pure  gold,  as  it  were  transparent 
glass.  And  I saw  no  temple  therein;  for  the 
Lord  God  Almighty  and  the  Lamb  are  the 
temple  thereof.  And  the  city  had  no  need  of 
the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon,  to  shine  in  it ; 
for  the  glory  of  God  did  lighten  it,  and  the 
Lamb  is  the  light  thereof.  And  the  nations 
of  them  which  are  saved  shall  walk  in  the 
light  of  it;  and  the  kings  of  the  earth  do 
bring  their  glory  and  honor  unto  it.  And 
the  gates  of  it  shall  not  be  shut  at  all  by  day: 
for  there  shall  be  no  night  there.  And  they 
shall  bring  the  glory  and  honor  of  the  nations 
into  it.  And  there  shall  in  no  wise  enter  into 
it  anything  that  defileth,  neither  whatsoever 
worketh  abomination  or  maketh  a lie,  but 


THE  CHAIN  DEAWN  CLOSER. 


137 


they  whicli  are  written  in  the  Lamb’s  book 
of  life. 

“And  he  showed  me  a pure  river  of  the 
water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal,  proceeding  out 
of  the  throne  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb.  In 
the  midst  of  the  street  of  it  and  on  either  side 
of  the  river  was  there  the  tree  of  life,  which 
bai’e  twelve  manner  of  fruits,  and  yielded  her 
fruit  every  month  : and  the  leaves  of  the  tree 
were  for  the  healing  of  the  nations.  And 
there  shall  be  no  more  curse;  but  the  throne 
of  God  and  of  the  Lamb  shall  be  in  it;  and 
his  servants  shall  serve  him;  and  they  shall 
see  his  face,  and  liis  name  shall  be  in  their 
foreheads.  And  there  shall  be  no  night  there; 
and  they  need  no  candle,  neither  light  of  the 
sun ; for  the  Lord  God  giveth  them  light ; 
and  they  shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever.” 
Boshonto  listened  to  these  words  with  great 
attention.  AVhen  he  finished,  she  said  : 

“ Premchaud,  I should  so  like  to  be  a 
Christian.” 

The  boy  was  startled.  It  was  the  echo  of 
his  own  thought — a thought  to  which  he  had 
not  yet  given  a living  voice.  But  he  said, 

12  * 


138 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


“ That  is  impossible,  Boshonto.” 

“ Why  ?” 

“ How  can  you  leave  the  x’eligion  in  which 
your  forefathers  have  lived  and  died  ?” 

“ But,  Premchand,  others  have  done  it,  and 
they  must  be  happier  than  we  are.” 

“Well,  never  mind;  don’t  let  us  talk  any 
more  about  this.  Have  you  liked  \vhat  I 
have  read  ?” 

“Oh  yes,  very  much.  I only  wish  I 
knew  that  I was  going  to  that  heaven.  I 
should  then  be  quite  happy,  I think.” 

The  young  man  knitted  his  brows:  he 
looked  lost  in  thought ; then  he  said  : 

“ Boshonto,  I will  tell  you  one  thing  which 
you  must  never  repeat.” 

“I  promise.” 

“ I feel  just  as  you  do.  I,  too,  am  very 
unhappy.  I long  to  be  able  to  believe  in 
Christianity.  I have  not  been  quite  honest 
in  saying  that  my  studies  kept  me  from  com- 
ino;  here  for  some  weeks.  It  is  true  I have 
studied  hard ; my  Saturdays,  ev^en  until  sun- 
set, have  been  spent  in  study.  But  the  Sun- 
day has  been  otherwise  spent.  1 have  read 


THE  CHAIX  DRAWN  CLOSER. 


139 


the  Bible,  and  oh,  Boshonto,  I have  even 
ventured  into  Christian  places  of  worship.” 
“I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  say  this, 
Premchand.  You  are  a man,  and  are  learn- 
ed ; you  will  be  able  to  teach  me.  But  tell 
me  first  what  these  Christians  do  in  their 
places  of  worship;  I am  so  curious  to  know.” 
“ Y'ell,  one  Sabbath  evening,  after  I had 
been  reading  and  thinking  all  day,  I went 
out  after  dark  to  see  if  I could  get  into  any 
place  of  worship  unobserved.  I found  one 
lighted  up,  and  I went  in  and  sat  down  at 
the  very  back.  A hymn  was  given  out,  and 
I saw  all  the  people  stand  up  to  sing.  I stood 
also,  and  a gentleman  handed  me  a hymn 
book.  It  was  a beautiful  hymn — all  about 
Jesus.  Then  the  minister  rose  up  in  a sort 
of  box  at  one  end  of  the  chapel,  and  read  a 
chapter  about  some  of  the  miracles  of  Jesus, 
and  after  that  he  prayed.  I never  heard  a 
Christian  prayer  before,  and  I thought  it  so 
l)eautiful.  He  seemetl  to  feel  the  presence  of 
God.  He  called  God  our  Father,  and  he 
spoke  to  God  as  a little  child  would  speak  to 
his  father.  How  I wislied  I could  pray  like 


140 


THE  DAWN  or  LIGHT. 


that!  Then  there  was  another  leautiful 
hymn.  After  this  the  minister  again  rose  up, 
and  read  about  the  healing  of  the  blind  man. 
AVait ; I will  find  you  the  passage. 

“ ‘ And  it  came  to  pass,  as  he  was  come 
nigh  unto  Jericho,  a certain  blind  man  sat  by 
the  wayside  begging : and  hearing  the  multi- 
tudes pass  by,  he  aslced  what  it  meant.  And 
they  told  him,  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  passeth 
by.  And  he  cried,  saying,  Jesus,  thou  Son 
of  David,  have  mercy  on  me.  And  they 
which  went  before  rebuked  him,  that  he 
should  hold  his  peace  : but  he  cried  so  much 
the  more.  Thou  Son  of  David,  have  mercy 
on  me.  And  Jesus  stood,  and  commanded 
him  to  be  brought  unto  him,  and  when  he 
was  come  near,  he  asked  him,  saying,  AVhat 
wilt  thou  that  I should  do  unto  thee  ? And 
he  said.  Lord,  that  I may  receive  my  sight. 
And  Jesus  said  unto  him.  Receive  thy  sight : 
thy  faith  hath  saved  thee.  And  immediately 
he  received  his  sight,  and  followed  him,  glori- 
fying God : and  all  the  people,  when  they 
saw  it,  gave  praise  unto  God.’ 

“ The  minister  applied  all  this  to  us.  He 


THE  CHAIN  DRAWN  CLOSER. 


141 


said  : ‘We  are  like  that  poor  blind  man ; our 
eyes,  the  eyes  of  our  mind,  are  blinded,  and 
we  cannot  see  the  love  and  the  glory  of  Christ. 
But  Jesus  calls  us  to  him,  and  we  have  but 
to  ask  him  to  give  us  sight,  and  we  shall  see.’ 
On  closing  his  sermon  he  said  : ‘ My  friends, 
Jesus  is  now  passing  by.  You  can  all  hear 
liim  passing,  but  many  of  you  cannot  see  his 
majesty,  his  glory.  You  do  not  see  him  as 
your  Saviour.  Call  out  to  him,  as  the  blind 
man  did.  He  will  stop ; he  will  call  you  to 
go  near  him;  he  will  sa}’^  to  you,  “AVhat  wilt 
thou  that  I should  do  unto  thee  ?”  And  then 
you  have  but  to  say,  “ Lord,  that  I may  re- 
ceive my  sight.”  If  you  pray  thus,  Jesus 
will  answer,  “Eeceive  thy  sight;  thy  faith 
hath  saved  thee.”  ’ 

“After  the  sermon  there  was  a short  prayer; 
then  a hymn ; then  some  loving  words  of 
blessing..  As  soon  as  these  were  uttered  I 
hurried  aAvay.” 

“ How  wonderful  all  this  is ! Did  you 
ever  go  again  ?” 

“Yes;  the  next  Sunday  I thought  I would 
go  to  a Bengali  chajiel.  So  I managed  to 


142 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


make  inquiries  during  the  week,  and  on  Sun- 
day afternoon  I went  to  the  one  farthest  oif 
from  our  house,  that  no  one  might  see  and 
recognize  me.  There  were  no  English  gen- 
tlemen there ; they  were  all  Bengalis.  There 
the  service  was  just  the  same — beautiful 
hymns,  and  the  same  loving,  impassioned 
prayers.  The  text  was,  ‘Whatsoever  ye  shall 
ask  the  Father  in  my  name,  he  will  give  it  to 
you.’  The  native  minister  told  us  that  if  we 
asked  anything  spii’itual  in  the  name  of  Jesus, 
God  would  surely  give  it  to  us.  He  would 
give  us  the  Holy  Spirit  to  teach  us.  He 
would  give  us  strength  to  resist  temptation 
and  to  serve  him  aright ; he  would  make  us 
holy.  We  have  only  to  ask  in  the  name  of 
Christ  in  order  to  receive. 

“I  was  so  fearful  lest  any  of  the  Christians 
should  speak  to  me  that  I crept  aw'ay  before 
the  end  of  the  last  prayer.  It  was  quite  early 
still,  so  I thought  I would  take  a walk,  and 
walking  on,  I came  to  an  English  burial- 
ground.  I went  in  out  of  curiosity.  In 
these  burial-grounds  they  have  tombs  with 
inscriptions.  I cannot  tell  you  how  I felt  as 


THE  CHAIN  DRAWN  CLOSER. 


143 


I wandered  about  reading  the  inscriptions; 
they  were  so  full  of  hope  and  gladness.’’ 
“Cannot  you  remember  some?” 

“ No ; I cannot  remember  particular  in- 
scriptions. But  they  seemed  chiefly  passages 
of  Scripture  telling  about  the  resurrection 
and  about  heaven.  Next  time  I go  I will 
try  and  write  some  of  them  down.” 

“ I like  the  plan  of  burying  the  dead.” 

“ Yes ; so  do  I.  How  much  better  it  is 
than  our  custom  of  burning  our  dead ! I 
have  read  that  in  some  places  burial-grounds 
are  called  God’s  fields.  The  dead  are  put 
into  the  ground,  like  seed,  to  wait  for  the 
resurrection.” 

“ Premchand,  are  you  a Christian  ?” 

“ No,  Boshonto.” 

“ Of  course  not.  I forgot ; you  must  first 
eat  beef.”  * 

“ This  is  quite  false,  Boshonto.  Christian- 
ity has  nothing  to  do  with  eating  and  drink- 
ing. I have  made  my  inquiries.  Many  who 

* To  a Hindoo  the  cow  is  a sacred  animal ; to  kill 
one  is  murder;  to  eat  its  flesh  is  an  atrocious  and  hor- 
rible crime. 


144 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


are  Christians  never  eat  beef,  but  they  can  do 
so  if  they  like.  Christianity  means  believing 
in  Jesus  Christ  and  serving  and  worshiping 
the  one  true  God.’’ 

Here  they  were  interrupted,  and  the  con- 
versation, long  as  it  had  been,  was  left  unfin- 
ished. The  next  day  Premchand  returned  to 
Calcutta,  after  saying  a warning  word  to  Bo- 
shonto  to  keep  all  that  had  passed  secret. 

But  the  chain  which  had  long  ago  been 
fastened  in  heaven  by  means  of  little  Hurish 
was  drawn  closer.  The  little  one  was  in  the 
arms  of  Jesus,  and  the  love  which  united  the 
mother  and  child  had  drawn  the  mother  to 
Christ.  How  often  this  is  the  case  I 

The  Lord  is  kind  in  all  his  ways 
When  most  they  seem  severe; 

He  frowns,  and  scourges,  and  rebukes, 

That  we  may  learn  his  fear. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THI,  RIVETING  OF  THE  CHAIN, 


OSHONTO  liad  become  very  thoughtful 


now,  and  also  very  loving  and  tender. 
As  soon  as  her  strength  returned  she  began 
to  take  her  part  in  the  daily  household  duties. 
She  helped  Kumari  and  Prosonno,  heard  little 
Kamini  read  every  day,  taught  Juggottarini, 
and  made  herself  generally  useful,  so  becoming 
a favorite  with  every  one. 

One  thing  was  noticeable  in  her.  She 
ceased  to  take  an  interest  in  the  numerous 
pujas  which  went  on  in  the  house.  She  would 
bring  the  flowers  and  light  the  lamps,  but  she 
did  not  seem  to  care  to  repeat  the  prayers. 
Her  former  religiousness  made  this  the  more 
observable.  Kumari  once  remarked  it  to  her. 
Her  only  answer  was,  “ What  have  I to  pray 
13  145 


146 


THE  DA\\'N  OF  LIGHT. 


for  now  ? I have  neither  husband  nor  child, 
and  as  for  myself,  I have  all  I want.’’ 

She  spent  a good  part  of  each  day  in  read- 
ing. All  her  old  books  were  read  and  re-read 
constantly.  She  felt  little  interest  in  them, 
but  she  did  this  that  she  might  get  a reputa- 
tion for  learning,  so  that  no  suspicion  might 
be  excited  by  her  nightly  readings,  for  it  was 
only  at  night  that  she  w'as  able  to  read  her 
Xew  Testament. 

On  Sundays,  alternate  Sundays,  for  Prem- 
chand  generally  managed  to  remain  in  Cal- 
cutta every  other  Sunday,  none  but  Boshonto 
knowing  his  true  reason,  she  usually  had  a 
little  quiet  talk  with  her  nephew.  They  were 
both  groping  after  the  truth.  He  told  her 
what  place  of  worship  he  had  attended,  what 
he  had  heard,  his  doubts,  his  perplexities,  his 
hopes.  These  conversations  were  eagerly 
looked  forward  to  by  both,  for  both  were 
really  in  earnest.  One  Sunday  Premchand 
said  to  her, 

“A  few  days  ago  I went  to  the  old  China 
bazaar  to  try  and  get  a book  on  algebra.  In 
hunting  among  the  book-shops  I found  a 


THE  RIVETING  OF  THE  CHAIN.  147 

small  old  book  with  this  title,  ‘ The  Test  of 
Truth.’  I bought  it  for  two  annas,  and  took 
it  home  and  read  it  all  that  day.  It  was  writ- 
ten by  an  English  lady.  She  says  at  one 
time  she  beeame  an  infidel — that  is,  she  did 
not  believe  in  the  Bible  nor  in  any  hereafter. 
Yet  she  felt  very  miserable,  for  as  long  as  she 
believed  in  the  Bible  she  had  been  singularly 
happy.  At  last,  one  day,  she  thought  of  that 
promise  in  the  seventh  chapter  of  St.  Mat- 
thew: ‘Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive;  seek,  and 
ye  shall  find;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened 
to  you.’  She  thought,  ‘ How  easily  I can  test 
the  Bible  and  see  if  it  is  true ! I have  but  to 
ask  for  the  Holy  Spirit.  If  I receive  him,  I 
shall  know  that  the  Bible  is  true.’  So  she 
prayed  for  the  Spirit,  pleading  this  promise. 
In  answer  to  her  prayer  the  Holy  Si>irit  was 
given  to  her.  He  taught  her,  he  removed 
her  difficulties,  he  helped  her  again  to  believe 
in  the  Bible.  She  again  looked  to  God  as 
her  Father,  to  Christas  her  Saviour,  to  heaven 
as  her  home,  and  she  was  happy.” 

“ Premchand,  this  is  very  easy.  Have  you 
so  tested  the  Bible  ?” 


148 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


“ Not  yet ; I am  thinking  and  waiting.” 
No  more  could  be  said,  and  he  went  away 
the  next  day.  Boshonto,  however,  resolved 
not  to  think  and  wait,  but  to  act.  So  that 
very  night  she  prayed  thus  : 

“ O Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  all  power- 
ful, all  wise ! thou  hast  said  in  the  holy 
book,  ‘Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive;  seek,  and 
ye  shall  find ; knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened 
to  you.’  I come  to  ask  thee  to  teach  me  by 
thy  Spirit  what  is  truth.  Do  not  put  away 
my  request.  I wish  to  be  taught  which  is 
the  right  way.  I want  to  be  saved.  Oh,  I 
want  to  see  my  little  Hurish  again  in  heaven. 
Lord,  teach  me !” 

She  opened  her  New  Testament.  She  had 
commenced  reading  it  again,  and  had  reached 
as  far  as  the  twenty-sixth  of  St.  Matthew. 
She  read  that  chapter  and  the  next  two  eager- 
ly. She  never  understood  what  she  read  so 
■well  before. 

Next  night  she  prayed  again ; indeed,  the 
Avhole  day  had  been  one  of  constant  inward 
prayer.  When  she  sat  down  to  read,  her 
book  opened,  of  its  own  accord  as  it  were,  at 


THE  EIVETING  OF  THE  CHAIN.  149 

the  twentieth  chapter  of  John.  She  ha<l  often 
turned  to  the  last  chapters  of  this  Gospel ; 
therefore  it  was  not  remarkable  that,  this 
should  have  happened  so.  She  thought  she 
would  "read  that  chapter  before  going  on  in 
her  usual  course.  She  read  of  Christ’s  ap- 
pearance to  Mary  in  the  garden ; his  calling 
her  by  name  and  her  joyous  recognition  when 
she  exclaimed,  “Kabboni!”  She  went  on  to 
the  record  of  Christ’s  tenderness  to  Thomas — 
poor,  unbelieving  Thomas  ! — when,  after  giv- 
ing him  the  proofs  he  had  desired,  he  said, 
^‘Be  not  faithless,  but  believing,”  and  how 
Thomas,  looking  on  the  once  crucified  but 
then  risen  Saviour,  said,  “ My  Lord  and  my 
God  !”  She  read  the  next  verse : “ Thomas, 
because  thou  hast  seen  me,  thou  hast  believed ; 
blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet 
have  believed !”  Here  she  laid,  the  book 
down,  involuntarily  clasped  her  hands  and 
said,  I believe  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son 
of  God  and  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  my 
Lord  and  my  God !”  Again  she  lifted  the 
book  and  read  : “ These  things  are  written 
that  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ, 


150 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


the  Son  of  God,  and  that  believing,  ye  might 
have  life  through  his  name.”  Once  more  she 
exclaimed,  “ Lord,  I believe ! Give  me  life 
through  Christ’s  name.” 

Very  glad  was  her  heart  that  night.  She 
extinguished  her  lamp,  and  lay  thinking  of 
all  the  Saviour’s  acts  of  love  and  mercy. 
Again  and  again  she  uttered  the  words  of 
faith  and  love,  “ My  Lord  and  my  God !” 
She  wondered  that  she  had  not  believed  in 
him  long,  long  before.  She  never  for  one 
moment  doubted  that  he  would  receive  her, 
would  forgive  her,  would  bless  her,  would 
finally  take  her  to  him  in  heaven.  She  be- 
lieved in  him,  she  loved  him ; hence  she  re- 
joiced with  a joy  unspeakable  and  full  of 
glory.  That  night  she  prayed  thus : 

“ O Lord  Jesus  Christ ! I thank  thee  for 
having  taken  my  little  Hurish  to  thyself. 
If  he  had  stayed  with  me,  he  would  have 
grown  up  worshiping  idols,  and  1 too  should 
have  gone  on  worshiping  them.  If  he,  my 
pet  bird,  had  not  flown  to  thine  arms,  and 
been  sheltered  in  thy  breast,  I should  never 
have  tried  to  get  to  thee.  O Lord,  my  boy 


THE  RIVETING  OP  THE  CHAIN.  151 


ir.  with  thee : take  my  soul  into  thy  keeping. 
It  is  a precious  jewel  God  has  given  to  me. 
I cannot  take  care  of  it,  but  thou  canst. 
Wasli  away  all  its  sins  in  thy  precious  blood, 
and  keep  it  until  the  day  of  judgment,  and 
in  that  day  say,  ‘ This  soul  is  mine,  for  I 
have  redeemed  it.’  Amen.” 

The  prayer  was  heard.  Christ  took  charge 
of  that  which  was  committed  to  him  against 
that  day,  and  in  his  keeping  it  was  safe,  for 
has  he  not  said,  “ I give  unto  them  eternal 
life,  and  none  shall  pluck  them  from  my 
hand  ”?  Oh  the  joy  of  this  surrender  ! Bo- 
shonto  was  at  peace  now.  The  peace  of  God 
which  passeth  all  understanding  took  posses- 
sion of  her,  ruling  her  soul.  It  shone  out  of 
her  eyes ; it  pervaded  her  Avhole  being. 

From  this  time  the  chain  was  riveted  in 
heaven.  It  had  passed  from  the  hand  of  the 
babe  to  the  hand  of  Christ.  He  held  it  fast 
with  a grasp  that  could  never  relax. 

After  this  night  the  change  in  Boshonto 
was  very  great.  Her  face,  which  had  been 
so  grave  and  thoughtful,  often  sorrowful,  now 
became  full  of  gladness.  She  seemed  to  have 


152 


THE  DAWN  OP  LIGHT. 


a hidden  spring  of  joy  within  her.  The 
women  wondered  and  held  their  peace. 

When  Premchand  next  came  home,  a fort- 
night later,  he  too  noticed  the  change,  and  at 
the  first  convenient  opjiortunity,  he  said : 
“What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Boshonto? 
You  look  so  happy.” 

“I  have  done  what  the  lady  did,  Prem- 
chand. I have  tested  the  Bible,  and  have 
found  it  to  be  all  true.  I have  said  to  Christ, 
‘ ]\Iy  Lord  and  my  God !’  I am  now  a Chris- 
tian, Premchand.” 

“ The  tortoise  has  outstripped  the  hare ! 
And  has  this  given  you  such  gladness,  Bo- 
shonto ?” 

“Yes;  I have  comfort  and  peace.  And 
oh,  Premchand,  I shall  see  my  boy  again. 
When  I die  and  go  to  heaven,  Jesus  will  give 
him  back  to  me.” 

Then  noticing  the  look  of  sadness  on  Prem- 
chand’s  face,  she  added : 

“ Have  you  not  tested  the  Bible  yet,  Prem- 
chand ?” 

“ No,  Boshonto ; I have  been  afraid.  I 
want  to  believe  in  Christianity,  yet  somehow 


THE  RIVETING  OF  THE  CHAIN.  153 

I dread  being  a Christian.  But  I will  do  it 
at  once.” 

And  he  left  her.  No  one  saw  him  again 
that  day.  In  the  evening  he  returned,  and 
his  father  asked  him  where  he  had  been. 

Taking  a long  walk  and  sitting  in  a mango 
grove,”  was  his  answer.  This  was  true,  but 
he  did  not  tell  who  had  met  witli  him  that 
bright  Sabbath  day  under  the  trees.  In  the 
lonely  place  Christ  had  manifested  liimself  to 
him,  and  he,  too,  had  exclaimed,  “ My  Lord 
and  my  God !”  A quick  glance  of  intelli- 
gence revealed  all  this  to  Boshonto. 

Christ  has  different  ways  of  manifesting 
himself  to  those  whom  he  calls.  Yet  all  to 
whom  he  reveals  himself  must  exclaim  with 
Thomas,  “ INIy  Lord  and  my  God  !”  Any- 
thing short  of  this  proves  that  there  has  been 
no  manifestation  of  God  to  the  soul. 

Boshonto  and  Premchand,  led  to  Christ  by 
different  ways,  yet  both  taught  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  called  Jesus  “Lord.”  From  this  time 
therefore,  they  were  both  his.  They  had 
troubles  and  sorrows  before  them,  perhaps  bit- 
ter persecutions  also,  but  what  did  it  matter? 


154 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


Better  to  be  reproached  by  one’s  dearest  and 
nearest  bei’e  than  to  lose  the  crown  of  glory 
hereafter.  Better  to  be  disowned  by  all  one’s 
family  here  than  at  the  last  day  to  hear 
Christ  say,  “ Depart  from  me ; I never  knew 
you.” 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


A NEW  LIFE, 


ONTHS  rolled  by  peacefully.  Bosh  on- 


to was  a mystery.  She  seemed  very 
happy.  Kamini,  now  a girl  of  ten  and  soon 
about  to  be  married,  clung  to  her  as  much  as 
she  had  done  to  Prosonno.  Boshonto  was 
always  ready  to  help  her  and  to  teach  her. 
Prionath  left  olf  plaguing  her,  for  he  found 
she  bore  so  patiently  with  his  tricks  that  there 
was  no  more  fun.  Herani,  the  servant,  felt 
the  change  very  sensibly,  and  used  to  go  to 
her  with  her  troubles,  sure  of  sympathy  and 
comfort.  Kumari  and  Prosonno  often  won- 
dered and  thought,  “ What  has  come  over 
Boshonto  ? We  never  hear  her  abusing  now. 
She  has  given  up  blaming  God,  and  crying 
over  her  husband  and  Hurish.”  Prosonno 
once  remarked,  “She  does  not  perform  the 


155 


156 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


pujas  at  any  time,  nor  does  she  even  help  us 
by  bringing  the  flowers.” 

‘‘She  must  please  herself,”  was  Kuraari’s 
laconic  rejoinder.  With  her  shrewdness,  she 
suspected  that  Boshonto’s  faith  in  Hindooism 
was  gone,  but  she  did  not  want  to  know  it  as 
a fact. 

About  this  time  an  event  took  place  wdiich 
caused  a terrible  commotion  throughout  the 
little  town.  Several  of  the  more  respectable 
families  had  imbibed  Brahmist  views;  they 
had  given  up  keeping  the  pujas ; they  wor- 
shiped only  one  God ; they  thought  caste  a 
bad  thing,  and  were  trying  by  degrees  to  free 
themselves  from  its  trammels ; and  now  a 
marriage  was  contemplated  between  the  son 
of  one  family  and  the  daughter  of  another, 
the  son  a widower,  the  daughter  a widow. 

The  youth  was  about  twenty-two  years  of 
age.  His  name  was  Bhoobun  Mohun  Baner- 
jea,  and  he  had  been  married  when  he  was 
eighteen  to  a little  child-wife  of  eight.  Two 
years  after,  the  child-wife  died.  He  did  not 
seem  anxious  to  marry  again  directly,  and  as 
he  and  his  father  were  adopting  the  new  sen- 


A NEW  LIFE. 


157 


tiluents,  they  let  matters  alone  for  the  time 
being.  In  the  family  next  door  to  them  was 
a vonns:  widow  of  sixteen.  Her  husband 
had  died  fiv’e  years  previously.  She  was  a 
charming  girl,  and  had  been  tolerably  well 
taught.  The  young  man,  who  had  entered 
enthusiastically  into  the  sentiments  of  the 
pundit  Bidyasagor,  had  frequent  opportunities 
of  seeing  the  girl,  and  at  length  told  Ins 
father  he  would  like  her  for  his  wife.  Several 
such  marriages  had  taken  place,  but  in  this 
case  there  seemed  to  be  difficulties.  They 
were,  however,  removed,  and  finally  it  was 
settled  that  Bhoobun  Mohun  Banerjea  and 
Sreemoti  Mookto  Keshi  should  be  married. 

The  news  flew  like  wildfire,  and  the  talk 
seemed  endless.  In  every  household  the  sub- 
ject was  discussed  and  rediscussed.  Many 
disapprov’ed,  and  said  they  would  never  again 
have  anything  to  do  with  the  two  families ; 
they  would  not  speak  to  them,  would  not  eat 
with  them,  would  regard  them  as  outcasts. 
Others  said,  Let  them  please  themselves ; 
they  say  there  is  nothing  in  our  Shasters 
against  it,  and  certainly  it  is  not  a bad  thing. 

14 


158 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


But  at  any  rate,  we  shall  have  nothing  to  do  - 
with  it.”  A few  approved,  and  hoped  the  | 
innovation  would  be  universally  adopted.  , 

In  the  pundit’s  family  the  matter  was  of 
course  talked  about.  The  pundit  and  his  j 
brother  did  not  regard  it  with  much  appro- 
bation, but  Premchand  had  a good  deal  to  j 
say  in  its  favor.  Plis  mother  had  an  un-  | 
bounded  admiration  for  her  son.  She  thought 
him  perfection,  and  so  whatever  he  thought 
right  she  w^as  inclined  to  think  right  also. 
Thus  it  happened  that  in  the  women’s  apart- 
ments, at  least,  the  marriage  was  regarded  | 
with  interest  and  pleasure.  They  contrived  j 
to  send  Herani  on  several  pretexts  to  the  dif-  ' 
ferent  households,  and  on  her  return  always 
questioned  her  eagerly ; every  little  scrap  of 
news  was  welcomed.  1 

At  length  the  day  of  the  marriage  ap- 
proached. The  pundit  and  his  family,  with 
many  others,  were  invited.  The  w'omen  were 
very  anxious  to  go,  but  did  not  know  what 
the  pundit  would  do.  However,  after  due 
consideration,  he  announced  his  intention  to 
be  present,  and  their  glee  was  great.  On  the 


A NEW  LIFE, 


159 


morning  of  the  marriage-clay  Kumari  and 
Prosonuo  dressed  themselves  in  their  purple 
silks,  put  on  their  jewels  and  had  their  feet 
stained  with  alia.  Poor  Boshonto  could  not 
wear  any  jewels,  but  she  was  allowed  to  have 
a silk  saree.  Her  bare  arms,  ringless  nose  and 
unadorned  ears  and  neck  contrasted  sadly 
with  the  jewelry  of  Kumari  and  Prosonuo. 
Still,  she  looked  very  queenly  in  her  majestic 
beauty.  Little  Kamini  had  on  her  pink  saree, 
and  looked  very  pretty.  They  were  taken 
to  the  house  in  covered  palanquins,  and  on 
alighting  disappeared  within  the  women’s 
apartments.  Mookto  Keshi’s  mother  had  to 
undergo  no  end  of  questions  as  to  how  she 
felt  about  her  widowed  daughter’s  marriage. 
Her  answer  was  the  same  to  all : “ Mookto 
Keshi’s  father  wishes  it.  He  is  a learned 
man ; he  says  there  is  nothing  in  the  Shasters 
against  it.  Bhoobun  Mohun  has  been  to  me 
like  a son.  What  can  I say?  My  child  will 
be  happy.”  Tlie  shy  bride  would  not  say 
anything,  but  looked  very  contented  when- 
ever they  managed  to  get  a glimpse  of  her 
face. 


160 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


The  ceremonies  were  much  the  same  as  in 
all  marriages,  and  everything  passed  off  well. 
The  women  feasted  by  themselves,  the  men 
by  themselves,  and  there  was  great  rejoicing. 

Among  the  guests  were  many  men  from 
Calcutta.  One  of  them  was  a great  friend  of 
Premchand.  He  was  older  than  Premchand, 
but  between  the  precocious  boy  and  the  young 
Babu  a close  friendship  had  existed  for  seve- 
ral months.  The  fact  was,  the  same  thoughts 
had  been  smouldering  in  both  their  hearts. 
They  had  both  been  seeking  something  better 
than  Hindooism  could  give.  Unconsciously 
they  had  been  helping  each  other  to  get  to 
the  truth,  yet,  strange  to  say,  unknown  to 
each  other,  had  both  arrived  at  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth.  Each  had  found  the  treasure, 
yet  each  was  rejoicing  over  it  in  secret.  On 
this  occasion  there  was  of  course  but  one  topic 
of  conversation,  the  singular  marriage  which 
they  had  met  together  to  celebrate.  The 
young  Babu,  whose  age  was  about  twenty- 
five,  had  lost  his  young  wife  of  eighteen  about 
two  years  previously.  He  had  loved  her  very 
dearly,  and  had  made  her  a companion  for 


A NEW  LIFE, 


161 


himself  by  teaching  her  to  read  and  write. 
After  losing  an  infant  child  she  had  another, 
and  this  time  it  was  the  mother’s  life  that 
was  surrendered;  the  child,  a fine  little  girl, 
lived,  cared  for  and  cherished  by  its  father’s 
mother.  His  family  had  wished  him  to 
marry  again  immediately,  but  he  had  not 
felt  inclined.  But  during  this  visit  to  Gopal- 
pore  he  thought,  “ If  I could  meet  with  an 
educated  young  woman — a widow,  for  any- 
thing I care — I think  I would  marry  her.” 
He  happened  to  mention  this  to  Premchand, 
and  the  boy  quickly  replied,  “ My  aunt  Bo- 
shonto  would  be  just  the  wife  for  you.” 

“ Indeed  ! What  is  her  age  ? Tell  me  all 
about  her.” 

“ She  is  now  twenty-four — a year  younger 
than  yourself.  She  can  read  and  write,  and 
is  very  nice.” 

“ Is  she  pretty  ?” 

“I  think  so,  and  she  is  also  intelligent 
and  very  sweet  tempered.” 

“ I wish  I could  see  her.  Is  she  in  the 
verandah  ?” 

The  boy  looked  up,  but  did  not  see  her. 

14  * 


162 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT, 


After  thinking  a little,  he  wrote  on  a slip  of 
paper  these  words : 

“You  have  often  heard  me  speak  of  iny 
friend  Bishonauth  Mukarjea.  Look  down 
into  the  courtyard  and  you  will  see  him  talk- 
ing to  me.” 

Folding  up  the  paper,  he  gave  it  to  a child 
and  dii’ected  him  to  take  it  to  Boshonto.  It 
was  done,  and  presently  Boshonto  appeared. 
She  had  time  for  a good  look  at  him,  but  he 
got  only  a glimpse  of  her,  for  as  soon  as  he 
looked  up  she  drew  back.  But  the  glimpse 
was  very  pleasant,  and  Bishonauth  said  to 
Premchand, 

“ I like  her  face  and  figure  very  much. 
Do  you  think  if  I asked  they  would  let  me 
marry  her?” 

“ That  I cannot  say.  ITou  had  better  speak 
to  my  father  about  it  after  all  this  is  over.” 

It  was  not  difficult  to  introduce  the  subject, 
for,  indeed,  the  marriage  of  widows  was  the 
one  thing  talked  about  everywhere.  AVhen 
the  young  man  came  to  see  the  pundit,  he 
asked  about  his  family.  He  told  them  that 
his  wife  was  dead,  and  that  he  had  a little 


A NEW  LIFE. 


163 


child  who  was  being  reared  by  his  parents. 
Tlie  pundit  asked  him  if  he  did  not  intend 
to  marry  again. 

“ I have  lately  been  thinking  about  it. 
When  my  wife  died,  my  father  and  mother 
wished  me  to  marry  at  once,  but  somehow  I 
did  not  care  about  having  a child  for  my  wife. 
The  marriage  that  has  taken  place  has  made 
me  wonder  if  I too  could  not  marry  a widow 
like  Bhoobuu  Mohun.” 

“ I don’t  know  what  to  think  of  this.  It 
seems  to  me  dangerous  to  make  any  change 
in  our  existing  customs.  I have  always  no- 
ticed that  in  a family  when  even  the  slightest 
change  is  once  introduced  other  and  more 
important  changes  speedily  follow.” 

“ But  the  marriage  of  widows  is  not  op- 
posed to  the  Shasters,  is  it?  I have  lately 
read  the  writings  of  Ishwer  Chunder  Bid- 
yasagor,  and  I feel  convinced  that  it  is  not 
forbidden  in  the  Shasters.” 

“ Are  you  seriously  thinking  about  marry- 
ing a widow  ?” 

‘‘  Well,  I think  ot  it.” 

“ Have  you  any  one  in  view  ?” 


1&4 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


“ I fear  you  will  be  vexed  if  I tell  you 
who  is  in  my  thoughts.” 

“ Why  should  I be  vexed  ?” 

“ Then  I will  tell  you.  Yesterday  I saw 
your  widowed  sister-in-law.  Your  son  point- 
ed her  out  to  me  looking  down  from  the 
verandah.  I was  much  struck  with  her  noble 
look.  Your  son  tells  me  she  can  read  and 
write,  and  from  all  I have  heard  of  her,  I 
think  she  would  be  to  me  such  a wife  as  I 
should  like,  and  a fitting  mother  for  my  lit- 
tle child.” 

The  pundit  was  stupefied  with  wonder : 
“ What  shall  I say  ? Who  ever  heard  of 
such  a thing  ?” 

“ Would  you  consent  ?” 

“I  don’t  know.  Let  me  recover  my  as- 
tonishment. Think  of  Boshonto  being  asked 
for  in  marriage ! Who  ever  could  have 
thought  it?  Why,  Boshonto  has  too  much 
love  for  our  religion  to  think  of  such  a 
thing!” 

“ If  your  sister-in-law  were  told  that 
marrying  again  was  not  forbidden  by  the 
Shasters,  do  you  think  she  would  object  ?” 


A NEW  LIFE. 


165 


“How  can  I toll?  'Women  are  foolish 
creatures.  AYali ! wah  ! wah  !” 

The  young  man  rose  to  leave ; he  saw  that 
he  had  gone  far  enough.  He  went  back  to 
Calcutta,  but  lie  did  not  forget  Boshonto.  The 
pundit  also  did  not  forget  the  extraordinary 
reipiest.  He  told  his  wife  about  it.  Her  in- 
dignation at  first  was  extreme.  'Woman-like, 
however,  she  did  not  keep  the  secret  to  her- 
self. She  told  Boshonto  about  it  the  next 
day.  To  her  surprise,  Boshonto  heard  her 
in  silence.  She  remarked  : 

“You  say  nothing,  sister.  Are  you  not 
angry  ?” 

“Why  should  I be  angry?  I confess  I 
should  be  very  glad  if  the  custom  of  widow’ 
marriage  were  to  become  general.” 

“ 'Why  ?” 

“Oh,  sister,  don’t  you  see  how  many 
w’idows  are  yearly  ruined  ? You  have  been 
kind  to  me,  and  have  kept  me  among  you, 
but  "wliat  sliould  I have  done  if  you  had  turn- 
ed me  out  or  been  unkind  to  me?  Remem- 
ber Koylas’  Bow.  When  her  husband  died^ 
her  mother-in-law  ill-treated  and  beat  her. 


166 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


And  what  was  the  result?  As  soon  as  Ke- 
dernaiuh  Babu  spoke  a kind  word  to  her  over 
tlie  wall,  she  went  to  liiin.  And  then,  again, 
Pooshopi’s  mother.  When  her  husband  and 
child  died,  she  was  so  miserable,  hearing  every- 
day the  reproaches  of  her  father-in-law  and 
mother-in-law,  that  she  ran  aw^ay.  And  what 
is  she  now?  These  two  cases  have  occurred 
this  very  month,  and  you  know  how  many 
before.  If  there  had  been  any  hope  of  their 
being  mai-ried  again,  this  would  never  have 
happened.” 

“Very  true,  sister,  but  you  know  widow 
marriage  is  not  in  accordance  with  our  cus- 
toms.” 

“ Still,  there  is  nothing  in  the  Shasters 
against  it,  and  if  a custom  is  bad,  why 
should  we  keeji  it  up?” 

“Well,  what  do  you  think  about  Bisho- 
nauth  Babu’s  proposal  ?” 

“ What  does  the  pundit  say  ?” 

“He  says  he  does  not  know  what  to  think 
about  it.” 

“ If  my  brother-in-law  give  his  consent,  I 
will  not  refuse.” 


A NEW  LIFE. 


167 


It  was  out ! Kumari  and  Prosonno  looked 
aghast.  They  did  not  in  reality  disapprove 
of  the  thing,  but  they  wondered  at  her  cour- 
age. 

A fortnight  passed.  At  the  end  of  that  time 
a Ghottock  came  with  a formal  proposal  of 
marriage.  The  terms  offered  were  very  favor- 
able. The  jjundit  called  together  his  friends 
and  held  a consultation.  Some  approved ; 
some  Avere  indifferent ; some  thought  the 
whole  thing  very  wrong.  Sometimes  it  seem- 
ed that  the  answer  would  be  a decided  nega- 
tive ; at  other  times  that  it  would  be  brought 
about.  The  Ghottock  passed  to  and  fro  for 
nearly  a month,  but  at  length  the  prelimin- 
aries were  arranged.  Premchand  was  in 
reality  the  one  who  managed  the  affair.  He 
used  all  his  influence  with  his  father  and 
mother.  He  was  their  darling  son,  their 
pride,  their  joy.  They  thought  everything  of 
his  learning. 

The  father  often  said,  “ Well,  my  boy,  you 
knoAV  more  than  I do.  I trust  to  you  not  to 
lead  me  astray.” 

He  was  the  medium  of  communication  be- 


168 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


tween  Bishonauth  and  Boshonto,  and  his 
stories  about  them  to  each  other  made  them 
very  anxious  to  be  acquainted.  There  could 
be  no  intei’course  between  them  until  mar- 
riage, yet  hearing  so  much  about  each  other, 
they  felt  as  if  they  knew  all  about  one  an- 
other. To  Boshonto,  Premchand  had  con- 
fided his  suspicion  that  Bishonauth  was  a 
Christian,  and  she  wished  for  the  marriage, 
expecting  to  find  a helper  of  her  faith  in  her 
husband.  Bishonauth  looked  only  for  a 
friend  and  companion,  as  Premchand,  for 
some  inexplicable  reason,  had  not  told  him 
that  Boshonto  was  a Christian. 

The  day  came  at  last.  Bishonauth  came, 
accompanied  by  his  father  and  cousins  and 
several  other  friends.  Boshonto  was  again 
arrayed  in  her  jewels,  and  again  wore  the 
nose-ring.  It  seemed  so  strange  to  put  them 
on  again  after  they  had  been  laid  aside  so 
long.  The  customary  rites  were  gone  through, 
and  then  on  the  third  day  Bishonauth  return- 
ed to  Calcutta  with  his  wife.  She  was  always 
to  stay  with  him  henceforth;  “For,”  .said  he, 
joyfully,  “ we  shall  have  no  second  marriage 


A NEW  LIFE. 


169 


ceremonies.”  Kamini  cried  very  bitterly  at 
losing  her  aunt,  and  was  only  consoled  by  a 
promise  that  she  should  one  day  go  to  Cal- 
cutta and  see  her. 

Thus  they  went  away.  Premchand  alone 
saw  them  go  away  with  a glad  heart.  All 
the  rest  had  doubts  and  misgivings  as  to 
whether  they  had  done  right. 

15 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE. 

HEN  they  reached  their  Calcutta  home, 


Bishonauth’s  mother  received  her 
daughter-in-law  very  warmly.  She  put  her 
arms  round  Boshonto’s  neck,  kissed  her  and 
said ; “ I wish  my  son  had  married  one  not  a 
widow,  but  since  he  has  chosen  you  and  is 
pleased,  I am  happy.  May  the  Almighty 
give  me  to  see  a son  of  yours  on  my  lap  V’ 
Then  Bishonauth  took  his  little  girl,  now  a 
little  over  two  years  old,  and  put  her  into 
Boshonto’s  arms.  She  embraced  her  and 
kissed  her,  and  said  to  her  husband,  “ She  is 
like  what  my  Hurish  Avas  when  God  took 
him  away.  She  will  be  to  me  in  his  place.” 
That  night  Boshonto  saw  her  husband 
reading  after  he  had  had  his  dinner.  She 
went  and  sat  down  by  him  near  the  lamp, 
but  did  not  speak. 


170 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE. 


171 


“ You  can  read,  Boshonto  ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Let  me  hear  you.  I have  a very  inter- 
esting book  here.” 

Pie  put  into  her  hands  the  New  Testament 
open  at  the  tenth  chapter  of  the  gospel  by 
John.  She  read  the  chapter  through  slowly 
and  distinctly. 

“Very  good,”  was  his  comment.  “Bo- 
shonto, have  you  ever  heard  anything  about 
Christianity  or  read  the  New  Testament?” 

“ Yes ; I have  a copy.” 

“ Let  me  see  it.” 

She  went  and  brought  it  and  put  it  into  his 
hands. 

“ Why,  this  is  one  I got  for  Premchand  a 
long  time  ago.” 

“ I dare  say.  He  got  it  for  me.” 

“ Have  you  read  it  all  through  ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What  do  you  think  of  it  ?” 

“ Will  you  be  angry?” 

“ No ; tell  me,  Boshonto.” 

“I  believe  in  it.  I am. a Christian.” 

“So  am  I.  Oh,  Boshonto,  I am  so  glad 


172 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


you  are  a Cliristian.  Tell  me  how  you  be- 
came oue.” 

“After  my  little  Hurish  died  I was  very 
miserable.  Oue  day  an  English  lady  who 
used  to  come  and  teach  us,  seeing  my  sorrow, 
told  me  that  my  boy  was  in  heaven,  and  that, 
if  I believed  in  Jesus  Christ,  I should  go 
there  too,  and  see  him,  and  have  him  in  my 
arms  again.  This  made  me  wish  to  know 
something  about  Jesus  Christ.  So  I asked 
Premchand  to  get  me  a Testament,  and  I read 
it.  Then  I felt  that  the  Christian  religion  was 
true.  I saw  that  I could  not  be  saved  from 
hell  by  any  of  our  gods  and  goddesses,  but 
that  Jesus  Christ  alone  could  save  me.  I 
was  in  great  perplexity  for  a long  time,  wish- 
ing to  believe  and  yet  not  wishing  to  do  so. 
At  last,  one  night,  I prayed  to  Jesus  Christ, 
and  immediately  a weight  was  taken  off  my 
mind,  and  I believed  he  would  save  me.  I 
have  prayed  to  him  ever  since.” 

“ But  have  you  not  performed  pujas  ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Did  any  in  your  house  know  you  were  a 
Christian  ?” 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE. 


173 


‘‘Premchand  did.  He  is  a Christian  also. 
I never  told  the  others,  but  I think  Kiimari 
and  Prosonno  suspected  it.” 

“ I wonder  why  Premchand  did  not  tell 
me?” 

“ I don’t  know.  He  told  me  he  thought 
you  were  a Christian,  and  this  made  me  wish 
to  marry  you.” 

“ AVe  shall  read  the  Bible  together  every 
night,  Boshoiito.” 

“ Very  well.  Don’t  you  pray  to  Jesus  ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I should  so  like  you  to  do  so.  I have 
never  heard  any  one  pray  to  Christ.” 

“ I will.” 

And  he  prayed  thus : 

“O  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  we  believe  in  thee. 
We  bless  thee  for  thy  love  in  dying  for  us, 
and  for  the  world.  We  thank  thee  for  bring- 
ing us  to  know  about  thee  and  to  love  thee. 
AVe  give  our  hearts  again  to  thee  to-night. 
O Lord,  save  us,  and  wash  away  our  sins  in 
thy  precious  blood.  Help  us  to  serve  thee 
and  to  love  thee.  Bring  others  to  know  thee 
as  the  forgiver  of  sins.  O God,  the  Father 

15  * 


174 


THE  DAWN  OF  EIGHT. 


of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  bless  us  and  love 
us,  for  Jesus’  sake.  Amen.” 

Gladsome  indeed  was  Boshonto’s  heart. 
‘‘  I am  very  hapjiy,”  she  said  to  her  husband. 

Very  popular  was  Boshonto  in  the  house- 
hold. Merry  as  the  kokil  she  went  about  all 
her  household  duties.  She  would  not  allow 
her  mother-in-law  to  do  anything,  always 
saying,  “ I am  your  daughter,  you  know, 
mother,  and  you  must  let  me  work  for  you.” 
The  child  became  very  fond  of  her — so  fond 
that  the  grandmother  seemed  almost  jealous 
at  times.  For  her  husband  she  had  a wor- 
shiping love. 

Bishonauth  soon  began  to  teach  his  wife 
English,  and  their  evenings  passed  very  pleas- 
antly, he  teaching  and  she  learning.  Often- 
times the  old  mother  used  to  come  and  sit 
down  by  them,  and  then,  after  the  lesson  was 
over,  the  son  used  to  read  to  her  from  the 
Bible.  The  old  woman  used  to  seem  much 
interested  in  the  stories,  but  she  never  would 
stay  long.  Bishonauth  often  said  to  her, 
“Oh,  mother,  if  I had  married  a child,  as 
you  wished  me  to  do,  should  I have  been  as 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE, 


175 


happy  as  I am  now  with  my  dear  wife,  who 
can  read  to  me  and  with  me?” 

And  she  would  resiiond,  “ Boshonto  makes 
you  a good  wife,  my  son,  blessed  be  God  !” 
Weeks  and  mouths  passed  on  very  happily. 
Kamini  paid  her  promised  visit,  and  Prem- 
chand  was  a frequent  evening  guest. 

Boshonto  was  very  happy — happy  in  her 
present  peaee  and  comfort,  and  happy  in  the 
j)rospect  of  future  gladness.  God  was  going 
to  give  her  a child  of  her  own,  and  they  were 
all  very  glad.  At  length  the  baby  came — a 
boy,  Bishonauth  would  not  allow  his  wife 
to  be  treated  as  Hindoo  women  are  at  such 
times.  She  remained  in  her  own  room,  and 
was  carefully  tended.  There  were  no  idola- 
trous ceremonies  performed,  and  the  neigh- 
bors did  not  expect  any,  for  the  household 
had  long  been  known  as  one  that  had  re- 
nounced all  pujas,  and  worshi|)ed  the  one 
true  God.  The  child  was  named  Anondo 
Chondro — the  moon  of  joy. 

^\'hen  he  was  about  two  months  old,  an  im- 
portant event  took  j)lace.  , It  was  brought 
about  in  this  way. 


176 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


One  night  Boshonto  was  reading  the  Eng- 
lish Testament  to  her  husband.  She  could 
read  tolerably  well,  and  had  reached  the  tenth 
chapter  of  St.  Matthew.  She  read  the  thirty- 
second  and  thirty-third  verses : 

“ Whosoever  therefore  shall  confess  me  be- 
fore men,  him  will  I confess  also  before  ray 
Father  which  is  in  heaven.  But  whosoever 
shall  deny  me  before  men,  him  will  I also 
deny  before  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven.” 

“ What  does  this  mean  ?”  she  asked  her 
husband. 

“ It  means  that  if  we  acknowledge  Christ 
as  our  God  and  Saviour  here,  he  will  ac- 
knowledge us  as  his  disciples  at  the  last  day. 
And  if  we  don’t  own  him  now,  he  will  not 
own  us  then.” 

“But  what  does  this  mean,  ‘Before  men’?” 
“ Before  other  people.” 

“ Then  I fear  Christ  will  not  own  us  as  his 
disciples.” 

“Why  not?” 

“ Because  we  have  not  confessed  him  before 
men.” 

Bishonauth  said  nothing.  After  some  con- 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE. 


177 


sitlerable  silence  he  rose  and  went  out,  and 
Boshonto  went  to  nurse  her  boy. 

When  they  met  again,  it  was  time  for  their 
evening  prayer.  They  knelt  ogether,  and 
Bishonauth  prayed  thus : 

“ O Lord  Jesus  Clirist,  our  Saviour  and 
Redeemer ! we  liave  been  guilty  of  great  sin 
in  not  confessing  thee  before  men.  Thou 
mightest  justly  refuse  to  confess  us  before  thy 
Father  in  heaven.  But  we  come  to  ask  for- 
giveness for  this  our  sin.  AVe  pray  that  thy 
precious  blood  may  wash  it  and  all  our  other 
sins  away.  We  ask  thee  to  give  us  strength 
to  acknowledge  thee,  not  caring  about  what 
our  friends  may  say.  And  now,  before  thee, 
we  resolve  to  do  it.  O Lord,  confess  us  be- 
fore thy  Father  and  the  holy  angels  when 
thou  comest  in  thy  glory.  O God,  our 
Father  in  heaven,  receive  us  for  the  sake  of 
thy  dear  Son  our  Saviour.  And  keep  us 
steadfast  unto  the  end,  and  at  the  end  wel- 
come us  into  thy  kingdom,  for  Jesus’  sake. 
Amen.” 

They  kept  their  resolution.  The  next  day 
their  friends  were  called  together,  and  were 


178 


THE  DAWN  OF  LIGHT. 


told  that  they  were  Christians.  Then  Bisho- 
nauth  went  to  a Christian  minister  and  told 
him  of  all  the  loving  dealings  of  Christ  with 
him  and  his  wife.  And  shortly  after,  in 
Christ’s  own  appointed  way,  they  “ witnessed 
a good  profession  before  many  witnesses,”  be- 
ing baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  the 
Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Farther  we  will  not  follow  them.  Peace 
and  joy  were  theirs — the  “ peace  of  God  which 
passeth  all  understanding,”  and  the  “joy  un- 
speakable and  full  of  glory.”  And  they 
had,  besides,  the  prospect  of  “glory,  honor 
and  immortality  ” in  the  world  to  come. 

God  grant  us  all  grace  so  to  learn  of  Jesus 
and  confess  him  before  men,  and  so  to  live  on 
earth,  that  we  too  may  attain  to  that  glory, 
for  Christ’s  sake ! Amen. 


THE  END. 


4 

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